


In the middle

by lady_valkyria



Series: Something just like this [4]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: (teeny weeny bit of angst), Established Relationship, Fluff, Javier tries his hardest to be a good partner/tour guide, M/M, Off-Season, PWB: porn-with-banter, Switching, Yuzu's and Javi's adventures in Madrid: a love letter, Yuzuru is still a tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 20:17:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10906710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_valkyria/pseuds/lady_valkyria
Summary: Yuzuru and Javier meet each other in the middle (of the map).(Or, the one where Yuzuru stays for a few days in Madrid on his way back to Toronto. Because taking a vacation is important)





	1. Arrivals

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Finals are trying very hard to put me into an early grave, but this story wouldn't get out of my head and so here I am. Story of my life ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> It's mostly finished, so I decided to start posting and see how it goes. Rating applies only to later chapters, but I'm still leaving it there since it will be needed.
> 
>  _Italics_ in conversation mean Spanish. I think it keeps the flow of the story better than if I had to translate everything :_D

 

It always feels weird to Yuzuru when he has to take a plane without his skates.

He’s used to traveling around for training and competitions, and he needs them for all of those. Leaving his current pair packed in their usual suitcase back home for his mom to take with her to Toronto feels almost like losing a limb.

Javier had been very clear when they were organizing this trip, though:

_“This is a vacation! No training and no skates needed. Whatever time we’re spending there together we’re doing so like normal people; the kind that actually take a break from time to time. And I’ll check with Yumi if I have to!”_

Yuzuru had grudgingly acquiesced and no call to his mom was needed.

Now, as the inflight PSA informs them that they’re almost at their destination, the plane leaves behind a cloud bank and he gets his first look at the landscape. Down below, the setting sun gives way to the many points of light that keep the city alive at night.

Madrid.

It is effectively Javier’s hometown, and as such Yuzuru’s been there before a couple times since they started dating. The thing about Madrid is that it doesn’t have any ties to skating when it comes to Yuzuru: in spite of the sheer amount of rinks in different cities and countries that he’s skated on, Madrid has never been one of them. For him, the Spanish capital is a place of rest and healing after the wear and tear of competition; somewhere he doesn’t have any responsibilities, and where he can hide from the outside world in plain sight, just another face in the crowd.

It is lazy days and warm nights, spending time with Javier like they were just any other couple. A time and place to repair any damage left by the strain of competing against each other.

Yuzuru’s grown to love his visits, no matter how fleeting.

The plane lands at _Barajas_ airport, and Yuzuru gets his phone up and running first thing once he’s in the terminal. There’s a message from Javier waiting for him, sent fifteen minutes ago:

_We just got to arrivals. You’ll be happy to know I didn’t let Laura bring any kind of embarrassing signs, so you’re safe._

He sends out a quick response, smiling all the while:

_Landed. Get bag and go._

There’re more people than usual at baggage claim, but Javier did warn him about it being a holiday weekend in Spain and the possibility of bigger crowds. He waits for his suitcase, then resettles his glasses on the bridge of his nose and follows the signs to the exit.

There’s quite the gathering of people at Arrivals, but he spots Laura towards the end, waving both arms over her head and grinning. Javier stands beside her, face covered by one hand and clearly half-embarrassed and half-amused by his sister’s antics.

Yuzuru smiles, feeling the weariness of travel disappear momentarily when his gaze finally locks with Javier’s, and ups his pace to get to them.

“Hi, Yuzuru! How was your fli-“

His hand drops the handle of his suitcase, both arms immediately going around Javier’s shoulders in a tight embrace; his lips nuzzle warmly at the other’s neck, out of sight. It gets returned with just as much feeling, Javier’s arms coming up to grasp at his back.

They both stand there for a second, just breathing each other in. Then, finally, Yuzuru turns his head to look at Laura, who’s watching them with a fondly exasperated expression.

“Sorry. Hi, Laura.”

“Don’t worry. I’m used to it by now.”

Javier lets go, chuckling, and grabs Yuzuru’s suitcase. “All accounted for?” At the other’s nod, he smiles. “Then let’s go. We’ve got a ways to go until we get home.”

 

\---

 

Laura insists on taking the backseat when they get to the car.

“Just go sit in the front, Yuzu. I’ve seen the landscape many times already.”

The moment Javier drives them out of the parking lot to join the road, she puts a hand on the back of her brother’s seat and leans forward, eyes intent on Yuzuru’s face.

“So, how long are you staying this time?”

“Three days. Five of May fly to Toronto.”

“So little?”

Yuzuru turns on his seat slightly to look at her and nod. “Back to training. Also, new choreo.”

“Didn’t you just compete last a little while ago? That team thing Javi got invited to?”

“Yes. WTT.”

“Jeez. Do you plan on resting at all?”

Javier laughs at this, eyes fixed on the road. “Come on, Laura. This is Yuzu we’re talking about.”

“I rest,” the Japanese complains petulantly, raising his chin. “Stay home in Sendai for two days after WTT.”

“See?”

Laura shakes her head while Yuzuru glares at Javier’s remark.

“That does put this three-day visit into perspective. Just don’t tire yourselves out too much then, if you know what I mean.”

Javier glares at her Cheshire cat grin through the rearview mirror.

 

\---

 

“Yuzuru! Dear, how are you?”

Javier’s mother Enriqueta is the first to greet them when they reach the Fernández López residence. She gives Yuzuru a quick hug and kisses him on the cheek, signaling for him to drop his small bag on the sitting room while her two children close the door and bring the suitcase.

“Very good, thank you,” he says, bowing.

“And the family? All good?”

“Yes, yes.”

There’s some Spanish coming from the kitchen and then Antonio appears in the door, wearing an apron and smiling.

“Welcome, Yuzuru.” Javier’s father offers him a handshake, firm and warm. “Plane okay?”

“Yes. Bit tired, but good.”

_“Javi, dear, why don’t you go settle Yuzuru’s things in your room while we finish with dinner? Tell him I already put fresh towels in the bathroom if he wants to shower.”_

Javier nods and takes Yuzuru’s suitcase, gesturing for him to follow. They leave behind the animated noise of the rest of the family and walk down the hallway to the bedrooms.

Javier’s bedroom, regularly unoccupied for years, still has the essence of the adolescent boy who once lived in it. Its royal blue walls feature a handful of posters of football players, wearing Real Madrid white or Spain red. Most of the books in the nearby shelf are high-school textbooks, and there’s still a backpack resting in the corner at its feet, the fabric full of sharpie signatures and drawings.

The desk is mostly clear, though, the rolling chair tucked neatly under the table. The first sign pointing to his skating career lies on the shelving above it, medals and trophies on display that must belong to Javier’s early years of competition. The window looks directly onto the side of the double bed, the duvet already folded back to the middle of it.

Yuzuru drops his bag at the feet of the bed, turning to Javier as the Spaniard rolls the suitcase in front of the built-in wardrobe. Their gazes meet and they move towards each other in silent agreement, joining in the middle of the room for a languid kiss.

“Hello, there.”

“Hi.”

“Flight give you any trouble?”

“Can’t sleep much in plane. Bit of headache.”

“You want something for that?”

“I already take. Better now.”

“It’s fine if you want to stay here and skip dinner,” murmurs Javier, thumb brushing soothingly along the other’s temple. ”No one’s gonna get mad at you for that.”

“No, I want. Smell nice.”

“It better: Dad’s cooking salmon, the one you liked so much last time.”

Yuzuru’s answering smile is bright. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

They exchange a few more soft kisses, their own private way of greeting, before Javier steps back.

“You want to shower?” Yuzuru nods. “Okay, you know where the bathroom is. Mom’s laid out fresh towels, but if you need anything else, just ask. We’ll be at the dining table, join us when you’re done.”

 

\---

 

Dinner is a comfortable affair.

The awkwardness of meeting one’s partner’s family is long gone, left behind on Javier’s apartment in Toronto, years ago. Now, Yuzuru sits at the family table and feels seamlessly integrated despite the language barrier. He chats freely with Laura and manages to converse with Javier’s parents in half-sentences of very basic English, relying on the siblings to pave the way with their two-way translations.

Enriqueta specially wants to know how Yumi’s doing (“ _Such a dear woman. Pity we can’t talk on the phone.” “I still don’t know how you manage to understand each other most of the time.” “It’s a mom thing, you wouldn’t understand”),_ while Laura and Antonio ask about his studies and if he plans to integrate those with figure skating in any way later.

The food’s great, the salmon rich in flavour and soft on Yuzuru’s tongue, easy on his stomach after the long hours on the plane. They offer him a number of beverages, but he ends up sipping contentedly at his water, sitting back while Laura raves on about something or other, her face alight with excitement. Javier nudges his calf with a foot, giving him an amused look and a wink that only makes Yuzuru’s smile grow bigger.

Yuzuru likes Javier’s family. They might be louder, more naturally animated and openly demonstrative that his own, but they’re good, dependable people where it counts.

“Now we get to the main event: dessert!”

Laura stands up from her seat, running off to the kitchen for a moment and coming back with a delicious looking chocolate cake.

“Ta-da! You better appreciate it, I made it myself.”

“You finally got an oven installed?”

“Yes. And god, what a nightmare that was. Remind me why I wanted my own place, again?”

She starts cutting it up, handing out plates around the table. Yuzuru digs into his with gusto, the chocolate meltingly smooth on his mouth when he takes the first bite.

“How is it? Good?”

He hums in pleasure, eyes closed while he swallows, tongue coming out to lick at the remaining frosting on the corner of his lips. “Yes, thank you. I like very much.”

“You’re welcome,” says Laura with a smile. Then, while Yuzuru goes back to eating, she sends a pointed look in Javier’s direction: her brother is looking very intently down at his own plate, cheeks a bit flushed. Her smile turns gleeful, but she gets interrupted by Enriqueta.

_“Don’t tease your brother.”_

_“Mom!”_

_“Yeah, leave the boy alone.”_ Javier raises his head, mouth already opened to thank his father for the save when he catches Antonio’s cheeky smile and realizes his mistake. _“It’s a parent’s job to embarrass their children. Don’t encroach on our territory.”_

_“Dad!”_

_“Oh, shush. Nothing to be ashamed of.”_

_“Oh my god…”_

Yuzuru, mostly done with his piece by now, looks between them all with a confused look in his face.

“What happen?”

“Nothing, dear.”

“Yeah, Yuzu. Just finish your cake.”

He does, inquiring look thrown at Javier when the conversation starts back in Spanish between the others. His partner just chuckles, patting his thigh under the table.

“Family being family. Don’t worry about it.”

 

\---

 

Javier gets back into the bedroom after his shower, still rubbing a towel through his damp hair.

“Laura’s just leaving. She says goodbye.”

“Oh. I get up and -“

The Spaniard stops him getting out of bed with a reached out hand. “No need. She knows you’re tired.”

“Okay.”

Yuzuru lies back down between the sheets, already changed into his sleeping clothes. He stretches, whole body tense like a bow, then relaxes with a soft sigh and nuzzles into the pillow, yawning.

Javier’s heart aches in his chest at the sight.

“I have to take off early tomorrow. They’re awarding me the medal of the _Comunidad de Madrid_ and the ceremony is in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“After that,” Javier says, dropping the towel in the laundry basket and sitting on the bed, “I’m all yours.”

Yuzuru opens one eye, his smile mischievous. “You mine all the time.”

The Spaniard bends down to kiss him on the temple, humming his assent.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

He joins the other in the bed, both of them fumbling around for a bit until they find a comfortable position after the time spent apart, sleeping alone.

“Goodnight, Yuzu.”

“Goodnight, Javi.”

The last thing he sees before turning off the lights is their reflection in Yuzuru’s eyes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Oh, I decided to keep all my stories archived in one series, seeing as they're all happening in the same universe. Just a heads up.)


	2. A good sport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a little more... _bite_ to it, be warned. Rating does apply here ;)
> 
> Also, I decided to embed a couple images as reference for places. Please let me know if it works like that, or I should just leave them as links next time to avoid breaking the flow of text.

Javier startles awake when his alarm goes off, reaching a hand quickly to mute the sound. He stills for a moment, listening; trying to discern if Yuzuru’s up, too. The only response from his bed partner, though, is a disgruntled huff at his back that tickles over the little hairs on Javier’s neck, the arm over his waist tightening to drag him closer to the other’s chest. Javier relaxes against him, luxuriating in the feeling of having Yuzuru there with him, in his childhood bed.

He’d stay if he could, comfortable and cozy and rested like he hasn’t felt in a while, but duty calls.

He turns around carefully, trying not to dislodge Yuzuru’s embrace, to look at him. His face soft with sleep, his lips puffy and slightly open, his chest moving slowly with every breath. Javier brushes away his bangs, fingertips lingering on his neck in a smooth caress.

Yuzuru’s eyes flutter open, his nose scrunching and his shoulder rising instinctively to shrug the touch off.

“Tickles…”

“Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

He gets an accusing pinch in the side. “You do bad job at that.”

Javier chuckles, cups the other’s face to give him a kiss on the lips, sleep-warm and pliant. “It’s okay, you can go back to sleep.”

“You leave?” Yuzuru’s hand travels down to the small of his back, pulls him closer while he goes for another kiss.

“I have to. Official business, you know.”

“Ah, yes. Medal.”

“Medal. You stay here and sleep off the jet-lag, I’ll be back for lunch. My parents are coming with, but you know your way around the house if you need anything, right?”

“ _Hai_.”

“Okay. Sleep tight.”

Yuzuru nods, kisses him one last time then lets go of him, turns away and burrows into the covers, folding himself into a ball and sighing contentedly.

He’s sound asleep again by the time Javier’s done getting ready, the Spaniard dropping a final kiss on his temple before grabbing his suit jacket and quietly closing the bedroom door behind him.

His mother’s waiting for him in the sitting room.

“Yuzuru’s settled?”

“Yeah, he’s staying in bed.”

“Good.” Enriqueta gives him the once over, making a displeased noise at the state of his tie and fiddling with the knot. “Poor thing, he looked so tired yesterday. Those long flights are a bummer.”

“Yeah, well. It is what it is.”

“Okay, done. Much better” She pats him in the chest, then turns to get her purse and walks to the door. “Come on, your father’s bringing out the car.”

Javier puts his jacket on, takes a final look at himself in the hall mirror and follows.

 

\---

 

The ceremony goes without a hitch; it’s the aftermath that gets Javier by surprise.

“Mom!”

“Really, Javier, there’s no need for drama. We’re all adults here.” She nudges an elbow into her husband’s side, both of them snickering at their son’s groan.

“God, this is so embarrassing…”

“Nonsense. Having some alone time to spend with one’s partner is perfectly normal and healthy,” says Antonio, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “How you spend that time is your business, tho-“

“Don’t say it!” Javier interrupts, hands flailing. Laughter is his only answer. He side-eyes his sister, who’s got the biggest grin of them all. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

Laura’s smile grows to a point where it encompasses her whole face. “Maybe.”

“You’re evil.”

“No, little brother; I’m just looking out for you both.” She pats him on the cheek. He glares. “And I really need mom and dad’s help with setting up the last of the furniture in my flat. Having them stay over is the logical thing.”

“Just when Yuzuru happens to be here.”

“I know, right? Such a coincidence.”

“Come on, Javi, it’s the natural order of things,” Antonio redirects his attention by putting a hand on his shoulder. “A parent’s duty’s always been to embarrass their children.”

“Well, you’re doing splendidly so far.”

“It’s settled, then. You take a cab home, and enjoy your vacation.” His mother hugs him close, rubbing his back affectionately and kissing him on the cheek. “We’re all so proud of you, you know that, right?”

“I know. But I couldn’t have gotten here without you guys supporting me.”

“Don’t go all mushy on us now. You just got awarded a medal, it’s time to celebrate!”

“You’re the ones pushing me away!”

“We’ll have a drink in your honour, son.”

“…Whatever.”

For all his complaining, when Javier finally gets in a cab a little while later, his family’s honest happy faces still in his mind’s eye, there’s a smile on his lips that just won’t quit.

 

\---

 

Javier gets home and the sound when he drops his keys at the table echoes through the house, the only thing perturbing the still atmosphere.

“Yuzu?”

No response. It’s already past noon, the sun shining bright and hot through the windows, but Yuzuru must still be asleep. Javier pads silently to his bedroom, unbuttoning and taking off the stuffy suit jacket as he goes. He opens the door carefully, just enough to get a peek in first: Yuzuru is indeed still in bed, but his eyes open and fix on him the moment Javier gets fully inside the room.

“You back.”

“Yeah.” He throws the jacket over the desk chair, going for the cuffs next. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Not asleep. Wake hours ago, have tea, play some games,” Yuzuru says, pushing the covers back and stretching like a cat, his eyes never leaving Javier’s. A smug little smirk tugs up the corners of his lips when he sees the other’s fingers falter on the cufflinks. “Wait for you.”

“Um… there was no need for that, really.”

“Yes, need.” Yuzuru bids him closer with a gesture, getting up on his knees on the bed. The moment he’s in reach, he wraps Javier’s tie around his hand and tugs sharply, bending him down to his level. “Not as fun without you.”

The Spaniard shivers, the other’s breath warm and inviting on his lips. Yuzuru’s eyes spark hotly beneath his sleep-mussed bangs: he clearly means business.

“Where parents? Did not hear them enter.”

“They stayed back.” The pressure on his neck increases slightly when the other tightens his fist around the fabric. Javier swallows, his throat clicking audibly. “They’re staying over at Laura’s for a couple days.”

“So we alone?” A nod. Yuzuru’s answering smile is predatory. “Good.”

Javier yelps when Yuzuru grabs him by the shoulder and uses his weight and the hold he still has on his tie to unbalance him, both of them falling back to the mattress in a heap of flailing limbs. The Spaniard’s still trying to find his bearings without elbowing any of the other’s soft parts when Yuzuru manages to get a leg around him and flips them, strong thighs pressing on his sides and his hands holding Javier’s wrists over his head.

The message is clear; Javier stills, tense, and looks up at the other for his next cue.

“Don’t move.” Yuzuru releases his wrists when Javier nods his understanding, pinned down by the fire in those eyes. “Now _you_ wait.”

He leans down then, going directly for the patch of skin at the corner of Javier’s jaw that never fails to make him squirm, mouthing softly and humming in agreement when the Spaniard throws back his head with a groan to give better access. Yuzuru’s nimble fingers make quick work of his shirt buttons, pushing the fabric aside to drag his lips down the other’s neck and latch onto his shoulder.

He bites down, hard, sucking on the abused flesh right after to bring up the colour.

“God, you’re like a vampire,” Javier laughs breathlessly. “That’s gonna leave a mark, isn’t it?”

“I want mark.” Yuzuru looks at him, pointedly dragging their pelvises together to make his desire evident even through the layers of clothing. “Javi is mine, so I can.”

Javier moans at that, fixing his eyes on the ceiling to keep himself from touching, from moving his clenched hands to hold onto the hips that keep their undulating dance over him, tantalizing but out of bounds. He hasn’t got permission, and Yuzuru’s a harsh master when disobeyed.

A hiss escapes from his lips when Yuzuru’s hands start moving over his torso, nails raking up and down his abs while a hot tongue comes out to play with his nipples.

“Ah, _joder_.”

“You curse already?” Yuzuru smiles against his skin, drags his tongue over the other’s sternum and moves back up to bite at his Adam’s apple. “That fast. Off-season bad for your stamina.”

“Don’t be a little shit, come on.”

Yuzuru leans back to take off his shirt in a fluid motion, arching his spine and showing off. “I not little.”

“You’re terrible, that’s what you are.”

“But you still want me, yes?” slender fingers play with the fabric of Javier’s tie, dragging it over abused nipples.

“Always.” Javier’s smile starts soft, then sharpens. “Though I’m sure you’re bad for my blood pressure.”

“Poor old man Javi.” Yuzuru gets close again, hovering over his chest while his hands push down the sleeves of the shirt. Javier obliges by leaning upwards, helping to get the item of clothing out of the way. The tie soon joins it on the floor. “Can’t keep up.”

“Such disrespect for your elders. Really, I’m offen-“

Yuzuru shuts him up with a biting kiss, pushing him back down onto the pillows. Javier gives as good as he gets, frantic and breathy, and clenches his hands in the sheets because _he still hasn’t got permission_.

“Yuzu…”

“Hmm?” There’re hands undoing his belt, tugging insistently at the button of his pants.

“Let me touch.”

Yuzuru smirks at him, then sits back and wiggles down his body to take care of the rest of Javier’s clothing.

“Seriously,” Javier’s eyes wander inevitably to where Yuzuru’s hands are now playing with the waistband of his own sleep-shorts, taking everything off with deliberate slowness. “I’ve been good so far, right?”

Yuzuru moves back up, gloriously naked. He pushes a knee between the Spaniard’s legs to make room for himself, his hands running up from the other’s calves to his thighs. Javier’s legs fall open at that, inviting; trying to tempt him closer.

“Yes. But you still not ask nicely.”

Their eyes meet and hold, and for a moment there’s an unspoken battle of wills that makes tension ramp up around them. Javier knows this game, knows the rules; it’s not their first time, after all. He’s very aware of what Yuzuru’s asking from him, what will, in turn, get Javier what he himself wants.

He still smarts a bit at the idea, anyway. Always. But it’s part of it, adds more fuel to the fire, and he stopped pretending it really wounded his pride long ago.

The Spaniard takes a deep breath, steels himself and when he opens his eyes anew it’s with a raw, pleading look of want on his face.

“Let me touch. _Please_.”

Yuzuru visibly shivers at that, his breath leaving his chest in a rush. He nods.

Javier drags him in with his whole body, starved for active touch now that he’s been allowed to participate. He fists his hands in the other’s hair, pulling a bit while he bites at his lips, eager and wanting. Yuzuru moans into the kiss, breath rushing through his open mouth.

“So needy, now.”

“It’s your own fault.” Javier wraps his arms around him, fingertips pressing down on Yuzuru’s back. “You are such a tease.”

Yuzuru huffs against his lips, smug. “You still beg.” Javier glares momentarily at him, but it dissolves into a pained groan the moment he feels Yuzuru’s hands travel south, deft fingers wrapping around where he needs them the most. “But you do good and I nice, so I give you what you want.”

Javier loses the ability to form coherent sentences for a while, drops all pretense of rational thought and lets himself _feel_ instead. Yuzuru keeps winding him up, mouthing at his chest and playing with him, hands forever in motion and hips keeping their own rhythm, dragging his cock where Javier’s thigh meets his hip.

The thrusting motion is telling, even to Javier’s pleasure addled mind. When Yuzuru’s fingers slide behind his balls and start running nails over his taint, he gives in.

“Just do it.” Javier puts his hand on Yuzuru’s jaw to make their gazes meet. “You don’t have to ask.”

“I know that.” Yuzuru’s full lips pull up on one side, and his eyes sparkle with mischief underneath sweat-slicked bangs. Javier realizes his mistake a little too late. “I just want to know if you want, too.”

“…Really? We’re doing this right now?”

His only answer is a finger moving further down still, drawing circles and tapping pointedly at his entrance. It almost tickles, but also makes his body feel like it’s on fire. Yuzuru leans back over Javier’s chest to lap at his nipple, tonguing the nub very deliberately and putting on a show.

“Come on, Javi. Not difficult to say.”

Yuzuru thrusts against him again, drags their erections together. Javier’s eyes roll inside his head, moaning, just this side of overwhelmed.

_Fuck it._

“Okay, okay.”

He puts his hands on Yuzuru’s cheeks, pulls him up until they’re nose to nose and he can speak directly onto his lips.

“Fuck me. _Please_.”

Yuzuru’s body immediately surges against his like a wave, pinning the Spaniard to the mattress with the full, deceptive strength of limbs shaped by elite training. His kiss feels hot, like molten lava on his tongue, and Javier can’t get enough. He whines when Yuzuru gets off to reach for the bedside table, rummaging around in the second drawer where he knows Javier keeps his supplies.

Yuzuru taps him on the hip impatiently when he’s done. “Turn around.”

Too absorbed in the other’s heated gaze to call him on it, Javier huffs and does as he’s told, laying down propped on his forearms off the bed. He feels Yuzuru settle on his thighs, the radiant heat of the other’s skin against his back when the Japanese bends over him to put his lips next to his ear.

“See? All good. I promise.”

Javier’s got a witty retort on the tip of his tongue, but it never sees the light because Yuzuru chooses that moment to bite him again as he pushes a slick finger inside, and there’s only so much input his brain can process at once.

What follows is, in typical Yuzuru fashion, a detailed and thorough study in taking Javier apart. He keeps a steady rain of biting kisses all over the Spaniard’s upper back and shoulders, his tongue coming out to soothe whenever there’s a hiss from Javier, not really apologetic but still caring. The movement of his fingers becomes a constant source of sensation, careful but insistent, precise in its search of Javier’s pleasure points.

Even after all this time, it still feels to Javier like too much and not enough all at once. Yuzuru is unrelenting in his ministrations, focused on undoing him until his base parts show on the surface, and the wave of feeling is not the kind that you can ride, but the kind that drowns you.

Javier’s panting, out of breath, when Yuzuru finally deems it enough and pulls his hand back, leaving the Spaniard feeling suddenly empty and adrift. He turns his head, watches Yuzuru’s hands as they move over his own length while he puts on a condom, and _wants._

“Yuzu, come on…”

Yuzuru smiles, reaches back for him and pulls his hips up, kneeling behind and lining himself up.

“Shhh. I give you what you want.”

Javier drops his head onto his crossed forearms and groans when he feels the other sliding inside, the drag and fullness of it welcome after all the teasing. Yuzuru hisses, hands tightening on the Spaniard’s hips until he’s completely seated, thighs trembling.

There’s a shared moment of stillness. A respite to catch their breath.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Javier arches his back further, pushing back against Yuzuru. “Keep going.”

That’s all the encouragement Yuzuru needs. He draws back slowly, then pushes in again in one long stroke, strong and sure: the pace sets Javier’s whole body ablaze, his breath punched out of him forcefully with every thrust, and he clamps his teeth together to try and keep his answering moans under some semblance of control.

Yuzuru’s hands leave a trail of sparks in their wake as he runs them up and down Javier’s body, releasing their grip on the Spaniard’s hips to caress over the tight planes of his back. Javier turns his head to look up at him: strong, and glorious, and on top of the world.

Yuzuru returns his gaze, rhythm unbroken, and beneath all the smoldering desire, there’s something less urgent that speaks of great fondness.

“I like you like this”, he says. Smiles, tone self-indulgent. “You look very nice from here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Yuzuru punctuates this affirmation with a sharp thrust and a moan. Javier sees stars. “Arms look nice flexed like that.”

“Really?” The Spaniard chuckles breathlessly. “I’m presenting like this and you’re looking at my arms?”

Yuzuru stops for a second, bracing a hand on the mattress so he can drape his chest all over Javier’s back. His skin is dripping with sweat, and the heat of it burns Javier’s nerve endings.

“I look at all of you,” his lips whisper a caress behind the Spaniard’s ear, breath hot and moist. “Because Javi is mine to look at like this.”

Javier moans helplessly because he does feel _owned_ at that moment, trapped in Yuzuru’s orbit like a stray satellite. Willingly opening up for him once more, because he loves him, and he wants all of him, and he can’t get enough.

Yuzuru picks up the pace again; harder, faster, chasing release for them both. Javier closes his eyes and abandons himself to it, the feeling of stormy seas breaking against rocky shores. The room is awash in sound, now, between the noise of slick skin on skin and the constant murmur of Yuzuru’s voice, an indistinct mixture of broken English and mumbled Japanese punctuated by harsh breaths and moans.

It keeps on building until Yuzuru’s rhythm turns erratic, his thrusts sharp but unsteady. His whole body trembles, the hand around Javier’s erection stilling as he bends to press his damp forehead between the other’s shoulder blades, shaking and moaning through his orgasm. His breath comes in huge gulps afterwards, his chest moving so rapidly Javier can feel it against his back.

The Spaniard reaches a hand back to tangle blindly in the other’s hair, tugging soothingly. Yuzuru smiles against his skin in response, dropping a kiss in thanks.

“Now you.”

Yuzuru grinds their pelvises together, still hard inside and pressing on all the right places, while his hand goes back to stroking Javier and pulling whiny noises from his lips. Javier’s body is wound so tight by this point, dangled on the edge of release for so long, that it doesn’t take much to throw him over. He comes hard, the back of his eyelids lit up like a supernova, and his body releases all the tension in a rush of endorphins that leaves his limbs feeling like jelly.

He falls back fully onto the mattress, suddenly exhausted. Yuzuru goes with him, taking a moment to tie off the condom before letting himself drape all over Javier’s body again.

“…Fuck.”

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t expecting that when I came through the door.” Yuzuru shuffles above him, hooking his chin over Javier’s shoulder and sliding their cheeks together. “Hell, I wasn’t expecting that when I left you this morning. You’re supposed to be tired.”

Javier can feel the smile against his face. “Bed big and comfortable, get enough rest. Plenty of energy now.”

“Yeah, no shit.” The Spaniard pushes up, dislodging Yuzuru to the side away from the wet spot and kneeling on the bed. He stretches carefully, Yuzuru’s eyes appreciative on him from his new position flopped on the bed. “I’m gonna be sore for a while.”

“Too rough?”

“No, that is good soreness. We worked hard for it.” Javier’s satisfied smile turns jokingly reproachful. “I mean this collection of bites that I’m sure is gonna be very purple for a week.”

Yuzuru extends a hand to Javier’s chest, fingers drawing over the shape of a particularly angry-looking one. “Oh.” He puts the most innocent look on his face right before he digs a fingertip in. “Sorry.”

They both know he’s not sorry. Javier brushes the hand aside and leans down to kiss him anyway, lingering and wet, because he wouldn’t have him be any other way.

“I’m going to wash up in the other bathroom, you take this one. And then let’s see what I can fix us for lunch, okay?”

Yuzuru throws both arms around him, kisses back with a smile.

“Javi so good to me.”

“Don’t I know it. Now come on, it’s late enough already.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t be cheeky.”

Yuzuru turns at the bathroom door to stick out his tongue at him. Javier laughs.

 

\---

 

“What do you think about football?”

“Eh? Why?”

Yuzuru lifts his eyes from the screen of his hand-held, looks at Javier’s profile from where he’s laying propped on the armrest of the couch, calves resting on the Spaniard’s lap. The other’s gaze is still on the television, watching some kind of sports news: Yuzuru doesn’t know what the Spanish stream of words coming from the speakers means, but by their tone he deduces something important is going on.

“Nothing, it’s just… There’s a big game tonight and a friend managed to get tickets for me.”

“You want to go? I don’t mind.”

Javier suddenly turns to him. “I want you to come with me.”

“You want to take me to football?”

A nod. “I know it’s not baseball, but the other Javi and I are always talking about it, and you’ve been around me enough to catch some of it every once in a while, and…” he shrugs. “It’s just different when you’re actually at the stadium. I think you’ll like it.”

Yuzuru raises his eyebrows. “Javi.”

 “Yes?”

“I go to a football stadium before.”

The other deflates, melting into the back of the couch. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“But I like it!” He brings a leg back to knee the Spaniard softly in the side. “I go now with you, if you want.”

Javier comes _alive_ at that, all jazz hands and excitement, almost jumping off the cushions.

“Okay, it’s going to be amazing, you’ll see. It’s the Champions League semifinal, which is like the biggest competition at club level, and it’s a… _joder, cómo se dice… derbi_?” Yuzuru tilts his head, half smiling, half confused. “When both teams are from the same city? It’s a big rivalry. The crowd’s gonna be on fire. Oh my god, you’re going to love it!”

Most of the provided context goes over Yuzuru’s head despite Javier’s ongoing explanations, but he still laughs, sharing in the pure joy in the air.

His partner’s happiness is infective.

 

\---

 

Later, Javier opens a specific drawer in his closet and waves proudly at his collection of football jerseys.

There’s quite a few.

“Choose one to wear.”

Yuzuru side eyes him, brow raised. “You know I not really know who is this people, yes?”

“…I’m giving you Sergio Ramos. He’s captain, a fighter, saved the team many times at the last minute.” Javier smiles, a story behind the fondness in his eyes. “You’d like him.”

And that’s it.

 

\---

Yuzuru’s no stranger to crowds, but the amount of people gathered around the stadium is impressive. The building looks huge from up close, a towering mass of concrete not unlike a monument to the sport. The atmosphere is electric under the setting sun’s rays, people of all shapes and ages wearing their team’s colours, some groups already chanting. There’s a bunch of stalls around the edges of the venue, selling both snacks and merchandising: Javier stops for a moment to buy a scarf, then wraps it carefully around Yuzuru’s neck. Its dark tones look good with the navy details on the jersey he’s wearing, Real Madrid’s crest featuring prominently on both.

“There you go. A true _madridista_.”

Yuzuru fiddles with the fringes at the end of it. The material feels nice and soft against his skin, and he smiles brightly.

“Look good?”

“The best.”

Javier leans in momentarily to drop a quick peck on his lips, then grabs hold of his hand and tugs him in the direction of their gate. Yuzuru giggles and follows, making their way through the crowd together.

That’s one of the things about Spain: for the most part, people stick to their own business and don’t bat an eyelid at their joined hands, and the chance of someone recognizing any of them is almost non-existent. They don’t have to worry about prying eyes and can openly act like the couple they are. Their interactions are innocent white noise to everyone else, just another young couple fading into the background.

For Yuzuru, it’s one of the best parts.

They finally get inside, Javier guiding him with a hand on the small of his back until they reach the top of a flight of stairs and Yuzuru gets his first real look at the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium.

It looks even bigger from the inside, the pitch a vibrant green under the spotlights and the rows of blue seats stretching upwards seemingly as far as the eye can see. The air smells of grass, humid and cool, and the buzz on the air speaks of the excitement of competition.

Javier’s laugh shakes him out of his reverie.

“Grab your jaw from the floor and come on, our seats are over there.”

Yuzuru goes along, head still swinging around and trying to take it all in. When they are settled, Javier turns to him, sees the other almost vibrating in his seat and sighs.

“Okay. Spit it out.”

The expected barrage of questions comes forth like water from a broken dam.

“Why that zone separate with tape?” His finger points high up to the opposite corner of the stands.

“That’s where the opposite team’s fans go.”

“But why separate?”

“Because there’s a big rivalry and security keeps them apart to avoid trouble.”

“Make sense. People can get stupid in sports.” He doesn’t leave room for Javier to comment on that, just goes for the next question. This time, he turns to point at their back “What are the rooms with the windows?”

“Ah, the VIP rooms. They’re mostly for businesses or companies.” Yuzuru raises his eyebrows at him. Javier tries to explain himself better. “Like… sponsors, or something. They pay the club to have the place to themselves, like rent. People have meetings and such in there.”

“What? Why?” Yuzuru seems scandalized at this. “You can have meeting in office, like normal people. Here you watch sport.”

The Spaniard shrugs. He has no real answer for that.

“Oh, most important: why they give us the colour paper?”

He nods toward Javier’s hands, which are holding both their sets. The other smiles.

“These are for the _tifo_ , everybody has one. They are for when the teams come out before the start, we raise them over our heads and it makes the stands look like a mosaic.”

Yuzuru’s eyes widen in wonderment at this and Javier’s smile evolves to a full-blown grin.

“All the stands?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

“There’s usually huge banners in the short sides, too.” Yuzuru turns his head so fast to see where Javier’s pointing to that the Spaniard worries about him getting whiplash. “Not now, only later. You’ll see.”

It goes on like this for a while, Yuzuru randomly pointing out things every now and then and asking about them, Javier trying his best to explain. It ramps up when both teams come out for their warmup and Yuzuru’s questions turn towards the sport and the players.

Javier smiles all the while: Yuzuru’s talking as fast as he can come up with the English, sometimes slipping into Japanese when he gets stuck wracking his brain for the translation to a particular thought. He seems engaged in the moment and eager, comfortable with the situation. For the Spaniard, who had taken the tickets from his friend without knowing if Yuzuru would actually agree to come with him, seeing him like this means a lot, and he can feel his heart growing two sizes inside his chest.

The first notes of the Champions League anthem play from the speakers and the crowd moves like one single body. Javier and Yuzuru stand up with everyone around them, unfolding their coloured squares and holding them over their heads. Yuzuru leans forward so he can see underneath the paper, watching with huge eyes how the stands come alive in white and purple, the huge banner featuring a map of Europe rolling down over the crowd to his right. On the pitch, both teams line up until the anthem ends, and then everyone takes their seats again, the stadium awash in chants and energy, waiting for the game to start.

What follows is a game Yuzuru will remember all his life.

He’s watched a handful of matches before (most of them playing in the background at Javier’s flat in Toronto) and has indeed been to a live one before, but something about this time is different.

He’s not sure what it is. It may be the atmosphere, static like the air before a storm from the very beginning, only growing in charge as the minutes pass and the game gets more and more frenzied. It may be the team in white, the fight and the determination that reaches even someone with an untrained eye like him; it draws him in, his body tightening in anticipation and half-standing off his seat whenever they get the ball close to the opposite goal. It may be the people around them, so many different faces united under the same flag, the same sentiment; the same burning passion flowing hotly in everyone’s veins.

It may be the light in Javier’s eyes, fully in his element, cheering every bold play and lamenting every missed opportunity; his body forever in motion, excited and incredibly _alive_. It may be the hug he gives Yuzuru when Real Madrid scores their first goal of the night, pulling him close for a moment before letting go with one arm, fist pumping to the heavens and hips swaying in a victory dance, smiling when Yuzuru laughs at his ridiculousness. It may be the way his feet leave the floor when Javier grabs him after the second goal, both of them joining the screaming happiness of the crowd.

It may be the stolen, hidden kiss they share almost at the end, when everyone is looking at Cristiano Ronaldo celebrating his third goal and they just have eyes for each other, the same giddiness in their face.

It could be any of those things. Or the sum of all of them.

Yuzuru’s just so incredibly happy that he got to experience it.

 

\---

 

“Did you enjoy it?”

It’s past midnight when they finally make it back home and into bed, both of them still buzzed by the game but too tired to do anything besides lie next to each other and hold hands. Yuzuru’s absently drawing circles with a finger over a purple bite-mark at Javier’s collarbone that’s peeking from under his shirt, but raises his gaze and smiles brightly at the question.

“Very. It fun. Better than watch on TV.”

“Yeah, it was actually a good game. Good thing we won, I wouldn’t be in such a nice mood otherwise.”

“You not a sore loser.”

“I try not to, but a match like this is serious business.”

“Oh, I know! Because it is…” Yuzuru makes a thinking face. Javier taps him on the scrunched nose, gets his hand batted away with a huff. “Stop distracting! It is… _derbi_?”

“And Champions League.”

“And big competition, yes, yes.” Javier smiles at all the condescending hand waiving going on, but then Yuzuru gets serious. “If Madrid gets to final, we watch together?”

Javier’s answering look is full of fondness. “Got you invested, eh?”

“Maybe a little.”

Yuzuru feels warm lips upon his forehead.

“I’d love to watch the final with you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The football game I reference here is Real Madrid vs Atlético de Madrid, played on the 2nd of May. Real Madrid won 3-0 that night and, after the second match the next week, have indeed advanced to the Champions League final (which is good, because I wrote this before that and was afraid I'd jinx it by talking about the final XD)


	3. Making our way downtown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squeezing out this update before I really get buried. I specially enjoyed writing this chapter, I hope you all like it! ^_^

 

Javier feels like it’s the first time in a lifetime that he gets to wake up naturally, without the insistent beeping of his alarm reminding him that he’s got places to be, things to do. He could get used to this placid drifting between sleep and wakefulness, the slow but growing awareness of his surroundings.

There’s something poking at his cheek.

“I know you awake, Javi.”

Make that _someone_.

The Spaniard opens his eyes to find Yuzuru lying half on top of him, forearms crossed on Javier’s chest and chin propped on his wrist. His face still looks soft with sleep, but his eyes glitter in the morning light, focused on Javier.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“No. I wake, go to bathroom, come back. You still asleep, so I get back in bed and wait.”

“…So you _were_ watching me sleep.”

“I don’t!” Javier snorts. Yuzuru slaps him on the shoulder. “Whatever. Not fun to look at you, anyway.” His expression sharpens into a smirk. “You have some… here.”

Yuzuru points to the corner of his own lips. Javier quickly extracts a hand from beneath the covers, fingers reaching instinctively to his face to check for any stray drool that may have happened during the night.

There’s nothing. Yuzuru’s lips widen into a grin when he sees Javier’s brow furrow in mock indignation.

“Really?”

Yuzuru laughs, his whole body shaking with mirth. “Silly Javi,” he manages to get out, stretching to leave a tender kiss on the other’s lips, “always fall for same thing.”

“You can’t ask me to function before I get some caffeine in.”

“Mhm,” Yuzuru murmurs, still against the other’s lips. Javier crosses the distance and steals another kiss, but gets pushed back when things start getting a little steamy. “Itchy. Go shave.”

“You weren’t complaining yesterday.”

“I complain now.” Yuzuru pokes him in the chest, driving the point home. “You want kiss, you go shave.” He gets off Javier then, pushing the covers aside and leaving the bed. “I go start breakfast.”

Javier sits on the edge of the bed and watches him leave the bedroom, Yuzuru’s hips swaying all the way. His fond smile turns into a yawn, fingers scratching at his belly, but he finally finds the will to stand up. His lower back protests a little when he stretches, which is to be expected after the prior day’s activities, but otherwise he feels rested and ready to face the day.

He goes through his usual morning routine at the bathroom, gathering his shaving supplies last because of course he’s going to shave. He’s just done applying the shaving cream and wetting his razor when Yuzuru appears at the door, one shoulder leaning casually on the wooden frame.

This is familiar, too; another piece of his routine when the other is around.

Javier gives him an inquiring look nonetheless, brows raised, but when his only answer is a shrug his gaze goes back to checking his strokes in the mirror.

Thing is, Yuzuru likes to watch him shave. Javier’s asked about it a couple times before, but has never received a satisfactory enough explanation. It may just be Yuzuru’s inherent curiosity, since he himself grows so little hair that he only has to do it rarely, while the Spaniard can sport a decent goatee after a handful of days. Whatever the case, Javier has learnt to expect his hovering when he’s around like another fact of life.

He doesn’t know if it’s weirder that Yuzuru just stands there silently, gaze burning and focused on his face and hands, biting down on his bottom lip, or that Javier has never minded it.

When he’s done, patting his face down with a towel, he’s the one to break the silence.

“I thought you were gonna get started on breakfast?”

Yuzuru walks up to him, draping the towel back on its rack. “I do. Tea for me, put on coffee for you.”

“You managed to do that without setting anything on fire?”

“I have trouble one time long ago, you never drop it.” The accompanying glare is magnificent. Javier grins. “I do it right, now.”

“Okay, I believe you. I’ll even drink it.”

Yuzuru stops him laughing by way of pushing their lips together, nipping at Javier’s bottom lip and petting his newly smooth cheeks.

“Am I eligible for kisses now?”

The other nods. “Soft and nice. I like.”

“Good.”

They stand there for a bit, trading soft kisses and touches, until the beeping of the coffee maker draws them apart and into the kitchen.

Breakfast is quick and comfortable: it’s close to noon already, so Javier just makes toast for each of them to go with their hot beverages and offers Yuzuru the choice of fruit. They’re just finished with cleanup when the Spaniard excuses himself to take a call concerning the upcoming public event he has in Granada, so Yuzuru finds himself alone in the sitting room. He’s been to this house a handful of times before, so he knows his way around its nooks and crannies pretty well by now; there’s just this thing that Javier’s mom told him about…

He drags his fingertips over the spines of the books in the shelf besides the television, passing over a multitude of Spanish titles until he gets to something he can recognize.

_Álbum de fotos._

_“If you have time, we have album of baby pictures of Javi, next to television. Blue one! Make him show to you.”_

Yuzuru takes the blue one to the couch with him and smiles mischievously.

It’s always a good idea to follow a mother’s advice.

 

\---

 

“I can’t believe she told you to do this.” A pause. “Scratch that, I should’ve guessed she would tell you to do this. She enjoys trolling me.”

Yuzuru’s still almost falling off the couch laughing, tears appearing in the corner of his eyes and the photo album still open on his lap to the incriminating photos. Javier doesn’t need to look at it anymore: the image of his eight-year-old self in his tragically ridiculous carnival costume is already burned in the back of his eyelids forever.

“But you look so cute!”

 “Why are you laughing, then?”

“…Because it still ridiculous.” Javier glares at him. “You are a banana!”

“Our class’ theme that year was fruits, okay? I just happened to draw the banana.”

Javier wonders if their neighbours are home to hear Yuzuru’s guffaws.

 

\---

 

 “Where we go today?”

Javier closes the dishwasher and turns back to look at Yuzuru, still seated at the kitchen table after lunch.

“I was thinking downtown Madrid. You seem to have brought good weather with you, so I’m sure it’s nice out at the _Retiro_ ”.

“Oh,” Yuzuru’s eyes widen in recognition. “Big park with lake? I remember.”

“Yes. And I remember I promised you a boat ride last time.”

 

\---

 

They take the subway exit that leads directly into the park. The sun shines bright in the cloud-free sky, dappling the dirt paths in moving spots of light and shadow as it passes through the foliage of great trees. The air feels warm against their bare arms, a slight breeze enough to stop the heat from becoming too stifling. Their hands brush together, meeting in the middle, and hold as they reach one of the bigger avenues on the _Retiro_.

 

 

They make small talk as they walk, pleasant and easy. Javier unconsciously turns his head up to the sun from time to time, basking in the warmth, while Yuzuru snorts and calls him a lizard-person.

From the corner of his eye, Yuzuru sees a group of children running around, taking turns on a slide under the watchful eye of the handful of adults occupying the benches nearby. The lively staccato of a guitar comes from the shadow of a tree, where a couple of girls are sitting and practicing together. Javier disturbs a swarm of pigeons to the other side, the birds scattering momentarily only to go back to surrounding the bench from where three elders are feeding them breadcrumbs.

Yuzuru can almost feel the slow beating rhythm of life in the park, echoing in his bones, calm and steady in the middle of a big city that never truly stops rushing.

“I like this place.”

“Good thing we have time to spare today, then. I want to show you a few things we didn’t see last time. But first,” he points ahead, in the direction most people are going, “we’re getting that boat ride.”

It’s the middle of the afternoon and the park is starting to get more crowded, so there’s already a bit of a queue to get tickets. A short wait after, they get ushered to the pier and into one of the small white and blue rowboats, with instructions to return after their allotted time in the lake is up.

Yuzuru giddily insists on rowing himself and needs only a minute to get the hang of controlling their direction, so Javier sits in front of him on the bench closer to the bow and leans back on his palms, dropping his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose and sighing contentedly.

“Comfortable?”

“Oh, yes. Much better than the last time I did this.” Javier smiles at Yuzuru’s inquiring noise. “I was with the kind of friends that find rocking the boat funny: we got drenched and I think half the park heard me shouting about how I would kill them if one of the mutant carps took a bite out of me.”

Yuzuru has to let go of the oars, laughing so hard at the image conjured by Javier’s flailing limbs that he has to clutch at his middle. “Javi scared of fish?”

“Hey, let me tell you: those fish are not normal. They’re this big,” Javier’s hands signal a length akin to the width of his shoulders, “freaking enormous. And they will eat anything.” He leans closer to a still chuckling Yuzuru, bracketing the slim body between his arms. “I’ll bet they’ll eat you too if I throw you overboard.”

Yuzuru’s shriek when Javier goes for the ticklish spots at his waist turns a few heads in their direction and sends a couple of pigeons flying, but they’re both too focused on each other to care. The sky is bright blue overhead, the murmur of conversation and splashing water makes for comfortable white noise and Yuzuru’s still giggling when Javier presses a sunny smile to his lips.

They kiss, unhurriedly, drifting on the water and warmed up by the sun, and the shared feeling of happiness simmers over their skin, raising goosebumps.

When they break apart, Yuzuru takes Javier’s sunglasses and puts them on, smiling cheekily. The Spaniard sits back again and makes a show out of admiring him.

“Oh, yeah. Looking good, man.”

“They too big. You have a big head.”

“Maybe you have a small head.”

“No, my head normal size. You need special big glasses for big head.”

“Whatever. Just don’t let them fall off your normal sized head.”

“Fish will eat?”

Javier snorts at Yuzuru’s delivery, innocent façade alight with the mischievousness inside. “Probably.”

 

 

Yuzuru goes back to rowing, turning back at the edge of the lake and taking them to the opposite side, towards the sculptural set and the stone steps that lead to the water. The statues of mermaids and lions near the bottom seem to be guarding the central piece, topped with the statue of a man on horseback.

“Who is that?”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t remember. I think it was a king, but don’t quote me on that.” Yuzuru looks mockingly unimpressed with his lack of knowledge. “What did you expect? I’m not a historian.”

“Poor Javi. He so old, memory already bad.” The Japanese drops one of the oars to reach a hand towards Javier and pat him on the head. “I forgive you.”

“You are terrible. I don’t know why I hang out with you.”

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah,“ he says, putting his hands on Yuzuru’s cheeks and kissing him softly. “I’m doomed.”

Yuzuru grins, whole face scrunching up in happiness. Then he scoots over in his bench, patting the space next to him. “Come here. We take photo.”

Javier quickly changes seats, throwing an arm around Yuzuru’s waist and drawing their bodies together, shoulder to hip. The other fiddles with his phone, putting the sunglasses on top of his head so he can see the screen better, and finally wraps his other arm around Javier as well.

The phone goes up, Yuzuru stretching to get both of them in frame then counting backwards in Japanese before tapping the button. They put their heads together to see the result: the Javier in the photo is actually watching Yuzuru, eyes soft and half-lidded, pure fondness in his face; Yuzuru, in turn, is blindingly smiling at the camera, his messy bangs pushed back by the sunglasses, and his fingers peeking as bunny ears behind Javier’s head.

It’s a beautiful photo, a memory caught forever.

“Send me that, I’m using it as a phone background.”

“One moment.” Yuzuru taps quickly on his phone, smiling softly all the while. “I send to family, too. They always want to know about Spain.”

Once their phones are safe in their pockets, Yuzuru turns the boat back to the pier. He rolls his shoulders once they’re on land, groaning.

“Boat is hard work.”

“Told you I could take over for a while.”

“No, I like. You have bigger arms, but I still strong.”

“Never doubted that for a minute.”

They walk away from the lake, stopping momentarily at a fountain to drink and wet the back of their necks, the heat making itself known.

“Always this hot in May?”

“Mostly, yes. But it gets worse in the summer.”

“Is good that we in Toronto, then.”

“Come, we’re staying in the shade from now on.”

They walk along more dirt paths beneath the trees, the trickle of people slowing as they get further away from the lake. Yuzuru wouldn’t be able to find his way around this part of the park, each patch of grass looking very similar to the rest, but Javier strides confidently ahead and seems to know exactly where they’re going.

Yuzuru understands when they finally reach the top of a little hill and Javier points through the trees with a grin.

“ _El Palacio de Cristal_. The Crystal Palace. This is what I wanted you to see.”

The Spaniard tugs him by the hand to sit with him, taking the sunglasses back and flopping backwards onto the grass.

 

 

Yuzuru pays him no mind, still taking in the scenery. The shallow slope they’re on leads to a pond, where a handful of ducks and black swans are peacefully swimming around. The water seems still until a big water jet sprouts vertically in the middle, creating ripples that break smoothly against the trunks of the trees that grow in the water. And on the other side of the pond there’s this see-through building, the sun shining through its latticework of crystal and iron, its gate decorated with stone columns.

It paints and idyllic and magical picture, like a dream, and Yuzuru is enchanted.

“Why you no show me this last time?” He pats Javier on the belly, tone accusing.

Javier just grabs the offending hand, playing with the fingers and fiddling with the bracelet on the wrist. “I told you, we had no time and I had to show you the quick visit version. But we’re here now.”

“Hmm.”

Javier gives him a last look, Yuzuru seated at his side and chewing on his bottom lip, eyes still looking ahead and sparkling in wonder, before putting a hand behind his head and getting comfortable.

He’s not sure how much time passes (he _might’ve_ fallen asleep for a minute, there) when he feels Yuzuru rest his head on Javier’s middle, lying perpendicular to him with his knees raised. The Spaniard starts carding his free hand through the other’s hair, unthinkingly.

“Javi.”

“Hmm?”

“What happens after Olympics?”

Javier’s fingers freeze, whole body tensing. Yuzuru feels this, turns his head to look at him with an unreadable expression, waiting for an answer.

Truth is, Javier doesn’t know what to tell him.

There’re so many things running through his head whenever he thinks about Pyeongchang, both good and bad. There’s the excitement of the new season, new choreography and music already prepared, waiting for hours of further training to combine perfectly. There’s the pride of representing his country, of still being a pioneer after all these years; the hope of getting the first figure skating medal for sunny Spain. There’s his own desire to complete his collection, the missing Olympic medal like an actual blemish in his resume, the burning ambition to get to the top and beat all his rivals.

But then there’s also the fear of lagging behind, of having to balance his chances on the decision of upgrading his tech or not; of squaring up to all these youngsters (and his biggest, most bittersweet rival, lying innocently next to him) and being found wanting. There’s the pressure of the expectations of a whole country on his shoulders, like the fate of the sport depends on how high he can manage to pull himself up.

The worst is probably the anguished feeling he gets sometimes, like he’s running out of time; like it’s do or die for him.

It is so because it’s true.

“Javi?”

Yuzuru is perceptive. Most of the time he can read Javier like a book, no matter how opaque he can make himself to others. This time, he sees the tangle of mixed feelings in his face and sounds worried in turn.

Caring, loving Yuzuru; beloved and treasured. But he’d still be the first to step on Javier’s head on his way to the top, thus is the nature of their sport.

Ha goes back to petting the other’s hair.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Javi, don’t do this. Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” He forces the words through the knot in his throat. “You and I both know what’s coming. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Yuzuru rises until he’s kneeling by the other’s side and takes off Javier’s sunglasses, expression serious.

“I know. But I don’t want to lose this. You too important.”

“Well, I don’t want to lose you either.” Javier rises to a sitting position, finally looking the other in the eye. “So we do what we always do: we keep pushing forward, relying on each other, and try to keep things separated.”

“Okay.”

Yuzuru nods, smiles sadly and leans in to drop the softest of kisses on Javier’s cheek. The Spaniard clenches his fists while he lets the wave of hurt pass through him, then raises a hand to rub his thumb on Yuzuru’s cheek when he draws back.

“Ask me again.”

“What happens after Olympics?”

“Why, we go to Worlds, of course.”

If Yuzuru’s eyes are a tiny bit wet at the corners when he smiles back, none of them points it out.

 

\---

 

They’re drifting back the way they came when Javier turns to ask:

“How tired are you?”

Yuzuru arches his brows, unimpressed by the implication. “We lie on the grass for a long time. I okay, but maybe you need more rest.”

“Okay, okay, message received.” Javier raises his palms in a defensive gesture, grinning when the other sticks out his tongue at him. “We’re walking, then.”

“Where we go now?”

“To the _templo de Debod_.”

“What is that?”

“An Egyptian temple.”

Yuzuru tilts his head, grimacing in confusion. “…Why there is Egyptian temple in Madrid?”

“It’s a long story.”

 

\---

 

Walking up the _Gran Via_ , it is as crowded and noisy as Yuzuru remembers.

 

 

There’s a never-ending flow of cars and people, the lights and signs of stores and theaters getting brighter as the sun keeps getting lower in the sky. The contrast between the classic architecture of the buildings, elegant and poised, and the modern storefronts with their flat screens and walls of LEDs gives the place its own distinct flavor.

Yuzuru’s been to many cities in his life; will probably visit many more as long as he keeps competing. And yet, he hasn’t found anything quite like Madrid.

He knows it’s the same for Javier, but for different reasons: when you’re an outsider, a foreigner almost everywhere you go, you learn to appreciate the place you were raised in so much more. Javier is mostly a happy person, spreading sunshine and friendliness in his wake; but there’s no denying that he’s a bit more comfortable and open here, surrounded by his culture and the things he’s always known.

Yes, Yuzuru understands the feeling very well.

Javier stops them once they reach _Plaza de España_ to get coffee because, in his own words, _“caffeine is the fuel to my soul”._

“You want anything?”

“Not hungry, but…” His eyes stray to the sugary goods on display at the coffee shop. They do look good. “Cookie?”

Five minutes later, Yuzuru’s nibbling on said cookie as they cross the roads into the square proper, Javier chattering about this and that between sips of coffee.

 

 

“Oh, and that’s the monument to _El Quijote._ You remind me of him, sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Attempting the impossible was his thing. He was crazy enough to go fight some windmills on horseback.”

“What is ‘windmills’?”

“Let’s see if I manage to explain… You know flour, right? And grain?” Yuzuru nods. “Windmills are big buildings with machinery inside that turns grain into flour, and they need wind to work.”

“Oh, I understand.” He takes a moment to process, then turns back to Javier with narrowed eyes. “Why fight windmills? Silly thing to do.”

“Well, if you believe you can do it and win, why not?”

Yuzuru answers the Spaniard’s cheeky smirk with a huff.

“Spanish people weird.”

“Come on, we’re almost there.” Javier looks towards the sky, its colour already warming with sunset. “Just in time, too.”

The temple sits atop a hill, the building and its two separate arches occupying a platform of concrete surrounded by water. Its heightened position leaves the construction standing alone against the skyline, only trees and the gathering clouds to accompany it. The splashes of colour left by the dying sun and the illumination of the temple paint a picture full of contrast and vibrant colours, mirrored in the still water.

 

 

“I never get tired of this.” Yuzuru turns his head to watch Javier’s face, the soft light of nostalgia shining in his eyes. “ _Debod_ at sunset. No matter how much time goes by, it’s still beautiful every time I come.”

He looks back at the other, the bittersweet smile on his lips growing into a true one, the fire of the sky reflected in his eyes.

In that moment, to Yuzuru, Javier is more beautiful than any monument on Earth.

His throat clogged with sudden emotion, Yuzuru throws his arms around the surprised Spaniard for a kiss, pouring all that intensity into the contact before it becomes too much for him to bear alone. When he steps back, Javier catches him with a hand in his hair, keeping their foreheads together.

They keep still for a minute, just breathing. There’s no need for words, no need for translating one’s feelings into another language and hope they reach their destination in one piece. They meet each other’s gaze and find themselves _understood._

“I take picture now?”

Javier chuckles and lets him go, standing a couple of steps away. “As many as you want.”

Yuzuru does take a bunch of pictures of the scenery; those are for sending to his family. Then he directs Javier around a little, until he gets the shot he wants: the temple, the skyline, Javier’s silhouette outlined in perfect contrast.

_That_ is going on his phone’s background.

 

\---

 

Javier throws the keys carelessly onto the dining table when they get home, taking off his jacket and leaving it folded over the back of a chair. He turns to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms, babbling all the way.

“That was a nice afternoon.  What do you want to do first: shower or dinner? Sorry to say, but I’m not cooking tonight. We have plenty of leftovers, so we… Yuzu?“

He stops and looks over his shoulder when he notices there’re no more footsteps behind him.

Yuzuru jumps him.

Javier gets the breath almost knocked out of him when his back collides with the wall, the picture frame beside his head rattling in its hook. Yuzuru’s hands travel from the other’s shoulders to his hips, pinning them in place while he plasters his body along Javier’s, hungry mouth alternatively licking inside and nipping at lips. The Spaniard moans into it, fisting his hands on dark hair and pushing back against the pressure.

“Or, we can do this instead. Good idea.”

“Talk less,“ Yuzuru says, his expression serious and intense, “kiss more.”

“As you wish.”

Javier drops his hands to the other’s shoulders, grip secure, then pushes him backwards onto the opposite wall, getting a thigh in between Yuzuru’s legs and applying pressure on his groin. He gets a high whine in response and smirks.

“But we’re doing this on my terms.”

Yuzuru tenses his body and tests Javier’s hold, but when the Spaniard proves himself determined enough to keep him there, Yuzuru gives up and melts into the solid surface at his back, shaking the hair out of his eyes and sending a smoldering look of challenge the other’s way.

“We see about that.”

Javier chooses to counter that smugness with another heated kiss, his hands meeting on the small of Yuzuru’s back and dragging him in closer. The Japanese arches his back, chasing more of that friction by riding Javier’s thigh a bit higher and bending his neck backwards, offering his long throat to the biting kisses of the other.

Their hands wander. Yuzuru gets his on Javier’s bare arms, fingers running up and down their contours and feeling the strength of them when the Spaniard flexes obligingly for him. Javier’s fingers end up grabbing handfuls of Yuzuru’s ass, pulling up insistently until the other gets the hint and jumps to wrap long legs around Javier’s waist.

“There you go,” Javier says, “wasn’t so hard, right?”

Yuzuru narrows his eyes, squeezing his thighs until Javier grimaces slightly at the pressure; point made, he lets up and pouts. “But it _hard_.”

The image before him makes the Spaniard groan, Yuzuru making innocent faces while bending his spine backwards wantonly to rest his shoulders on the wall, hips stuttering a rhythm all the while.

“Let me help you with that.”

They fumble about for a minute until Javier finally manages to open Yuzuru’s pants and get his hand inside, wrapping his fingers around hot and velvety flesh. The other moans in relief, bitten lips dropping open and eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.

“Yes, harder…” his voice drifts into Japanese, pulling himself back up chest to chest with Javier and keeping up a steady stream of what sounds like encouragement onto his temple, arms tight around the Spaniard’s neck.

For his part, Javier enjoys the weight of him, the wiry strength that takes to keep their position, with only one of Javier’s arms offering support as they move together, trying to get enough friction to alleviate the craving. He admires the ever present determination, the massive will that pulls him in and keeps him tied to its gravity, hungering and unashamed of it.

Yuzuru’s never been afraid of going after what he wants, and Javier’s only too happy to comply when that involves him.

(Guess things are forever on _his_ terms, after all. Javier’s not complaining, though.)

Yuzuru’s noises get breathier the closer he gets to his peak, sweat beading on his forehead and dampening his bangs. Javier tugs at him faster, thumb dragging on the head, and kisses him forcefully when Yuzuru shakes through orgasm, body finally going lax in the Spaniard’s arms.

Javier puts him down gently, mindful of his unsteady legs, a supporting hand on his waist.

“Okay?”

Yuzuru nods, a hand moving up to swipe his hair aside while he catches his breath, eyes not leaving Javier’s face.

“Give me minute. I return favour.”

“It’s fine, I can just-“

He gets pushed into the wall. Again.

“I say give me minute. You not want blowjob?”

Javier can almost feel himself getting harder in his pants, if possible. Yuzuru must see it in his face, because he smirks.

“That what I think.”

Then he drops to his knees, elegant fingers undoing the button and zipper, pushes all layers of clothing down and wraps hot lips around Javier.

Thing is, neither Yuzuru nor Javier had any experience giving blowjobs when they started dating and, later, having sex. But while there were a few fumbles at the beginning, the learning curve had been steep. They both enjoyed it and took to practice with enthusiasm, and it was a handy quick release valve to have when one was a top level athlete under pressure stealing moments with their partner here and there.

Yuzuru, though, was the kind of person who once he started learning something wanted to be the best at it, and had taken things to another level.

He now gives head seemingly with his whole body, tongue and lips and hands in constant motion; wet, languid and surprisingly elegant. Yuzuru creates a visual almost as good as the physical stimuli itself, eyes dark and smoldering while he slowly pulls up, hollowing his cheeks and humming in satisfaction when Javier’s voice breaks in the middle of adoring praise.

He knows he’s good, and prides himself on his ability to render his partner incoherent in a handful of minutes.

Javier comes not long after, brows tight and mouth open in a silent scream. His trembling fingers go back to carding through Yuzuru’s hair once the wave of orgasm recedes, the other lapping carefully at him to make sure there’s no mess left behind.

“…Fuck.”

Yuzuru gets up smoothly, apparently unbothered by his former position, and kisses him open-mouthed. Javier can still taste himself on the other’s tongue, and it sends small aftershock shivers down his spine.

They stand there, trading kisses and basking in their afterglow, until Yuzuru finally steps away with a satisfied grin on his face.

“Okay. We can take shower now.”

Javier laughs.

 

\---

 

Javier’s only half-paying attention to going through the television channels in search of something of actual interest (jeez, how many editions has there been of Big Brother, twenty? That shit will not die), when Yuzuru comes back from the bedroom. He lets his body fall on the couch besides Javier, sliding lazily down the seat and throwing a leg over the other’s thigh, tapping at his phone all the while.

“Mom already in Toronto.”

“It was her on the phone just now?”

“ _Hai-_ “ he yawns hugely, then bats irritably at Javier’s hand when he feels a finger poking his cheek. ”She want me to say hello to you from her.”

“I should thank her when I go back, too.”

“Why?”

“She let you come here on your own.”

“Not a little baby.” Yuzuru glares at the other’s grin, unimpressed, but doesn’t pull away when Javier starts absently playing with his hair. “And I not alone, I with you. Family trust Javi, so no problem.”

“Hmm, that’s good to know.”

“Maybe I tell them you not so good,” he says, devilish smile driving home the innuendo, “they change mind.”

Javier gleefully picks up the gauntlet.

“What, are you going to tell them we have sex and it’s corrupting you, or something?” He winks. “Too late for that, I’m sure they already know.”

Yuzuru punches him in the shoulder. “Javi!”

“What?”

“I don’t talk to parents about that, so embarrassing!”

“Really?” Javier’s curiosity now piqued, he leans in when Yuzuru’s hands come up to hide his reddened face behind his palms. “Never?”

“No!”

“Wow. Mine have always talked to us to make sure we had enough information. They also enjoy making fun of our embarrassment, so…”

“Really?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Why do you think they left the house to us?”

Yuzuru’s eyes widen in the face of Javier’s grin and implications, his skin getting even more flushed. Finally, he falls sideways onto the couch and curls into a ball of shame with a pained whine.

“I never look Javi’s parents in the eye again!”

Javier pats him on the thigh, commiserating.

“Welcome to the family. You’ll get used to it.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	4. Home is where the heart is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! This time with a 100% more chocolate. Because duh, chocolate is awesome.
> 
> (Once again, _italics_ in conversation mean Spanish)

 

Yuzuru gets awoken by fingertips running softly over his face. He scrunches up his nose, ticklish, and bats heavy eyelids slowly to look at his bedpartner. Javier’s lying sideways beside him, head propped on his fist and a small smile on his lips.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Yuzuru turns his face into the pillow, trying to hide a yawn. “What time?”

“Too early, I know.” The Spaniard bends to nuzzle his cheek, starting a line of kisses from his hairline to the corner of his lips. Yuzuru hums quietly, chasing the other’s mouth with his for a brief peck. “But it has to be now.”

“We go somewhere?”

“Yes, come on. Change into something comfortable and warmer, but layered. It’s still quite cool in the mornings.”

Yuzuru nods, and manages to kiss back sleepily when Javier leans in one last time before leaving the bed. The usual sound of the coffee maker reaches his ears through the open door not too long after, and he rolls over onto the other’s vacant spot. The sheets are still warm and smell of a combination of his own shampoo and Javier’s cologne, familiar and comforting.

Fighting against the part of him that wants to stay there for at least an hour more, he drags himself out of bed and pads to his suitcase to find something appropriate to wear, as instructed.

 

\---

 

Yuzuru is surprised when they take the car instead of the bus they’ve been using the past couple of days.

“We not go to city center?”

“No. We’re doing something different today.”

It’s just before rush hour on a weekday, so the traffic is dense and its flow noticeably slower. Javier keeps tapping an absent rhythm on the wheel, in time with the electronic beat playing on the radio that Yuzuru finds vaguely familiar; must be one of those songs that always make their way into organizer’s playlists. The sun’s already up, if not up enough for what Yuzuru would consider appropriate vacation waking-time; and he still doesn’t know where they’re going.

“Javi.”

“What?”

“Why we need to go so early?”

“Because this is the only time I could get us some privacy.”

Yuzuru slides his gaze away from the window, eyeing the other’s profile. Javier looks calm, or at least is trying very hard to maintain the illusion of it; but Yuzuru still sees the excitement underneath, the giddiness almost vibrating off of him.

Whatever it is, it’s important to him. The Japanese lets it go, for now.

“Okay.”

Javier takes an exit that leads to what appears to be a cluster of shopping centers and, finally, to a parking lot next to one of the buildings. Theirs is the only car there, the hour too early for usual opening hours. Yuzuru raises his brows in question, but the Spaniard just gestures for him to get out.

“Come on.” Javier locks up the car while tapping at his phone. “She’ll be waiting for us.”

They start walking towards the entrance, Yuzuru still confused, when he gets a good look at their surroundings: the moment he spots the sign, the distinct silhouette of a skater between all the Spanish print, he freezes on the spot and stops Javier by grabbing his sleeve.

“This is ice rink.”

“Yeah.”

“Javi. You say no training while we here.”

“And we’re not going to.” Javier smiles, putting a hand on the small of the other’s back to nudge him along again. “I used to skate here when I was a child. I thought you’d like to see.”

“Yes, I want. But Javi,” he laments, letting his voice go a bit whiny for effect, “you say not to bring skates and now you bring me to ice rink and I can’t skate.”

“I don’t have mine, either. The plan was to do something different, right? So that’s what we’re going to do.”

Yuzuru’s got his mouth open for a reply when the door of the building unlocks audibly and opens to reveal a tiny woman in her fifties.

_“Javier! I see success hasn’t changed you one bit, you rascal, still late for everything!”_

_“Traffic was worse than I expected. But isn’t it a good sign, Encarna? Still same old me.”_

_“Oh, shut it with that. You’re still a young and spry little thing, we’ll see how you’re doing when you’re my age.”_

Yuzuru clicks his mouth shut, watching as his partner laughs and exchanges greetings with the older woman in Spanish, bending down a little so she can hug him comfortably. Afterwards, she ushers them both inside, locking the doors again.

_“It’s a good thing you’re charming, I wouldn’t get up here at this hour for everyone. But I guess it can’t be helped, considering who you’re bringing with you.”_

Encarna nods pointedly to Yuzuru, who’s looking a bit tense and confused between all the foreign chatter. Javier gives him a fond look, arm going back around the other’s waist.

“Yuzuru, this is Encarna. She’s been this place’s janitor since I was a child. There was a time when I saw her more than my own mother.”

Yuzuru deflates and smiles then, understanding that they’re among friends and that this woman before them is another one of Javier’s motherly figures. He bows, speaks a timid ‘ _hola’_ in response.

“Congratulations for gold in Worlds,” she tells him in heavily accented English. “I’m sorry for Javi, but is his fault.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey!”

_“Well, it was! You just have to train harder this year if you want to keep up with this guy.”_ Encarna wiggles her finger towards Javier. When his grin just gets bigger, she throws her hands up with a huff. _“Whatever. Did you two have breakfast? I can open the cafeteria for you if you need. He could use a good sandwich…”_

She gives Yuzuru a calculating look. Javier laughs.

_“We already ate. And don’t worry about him, he’s being fed enough.”_

_“If you say so.”_

“What she say?”

“She wants to fatten you up. Happens to everyone here at some point.”

_“Well, if you need me I’ll be back in the office. Might as well do some paperwork since I’m here.”_ Encarna turns and starts walking towards a staff door to the side. _“I opened up rentals for you and the ice is fresh. Don’t have too much fun out there!”_

The entrance goes back to being silent after the door closes behind her and her footsteps recede, the sound of the air conditioning in the rink not reaching as far out as this. Yuzuru looks to Javier, a question in his eyes. The Spaniard sighs contentedly.

 “We have the rink to ourselves for a while.”

“It pity we not have ska-,“ his voice dies when Javier looks at him with clear intent, wiggling his eyebrows comically. Suddenly, he understands. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Oh, yes. We’re gonna put on some rentals like normal people do and it’s gonna be great!”

Yuzuru facepalms.

 

\---

 

“I can’t believe we do this.”

Javier just laughs, handing him a pair of blue, hard plastic skates and sitting down on the bench next to him to take off his sneakers. Yuzuru’s first instinct is to check the sharpness of the blades, but he gives up almost instantly: of course they’re gonna be dull for his tastes.

“Don’t be grumpy, come on. People do this all the time.”

“Not all people elite athletes.” He scrunches up his nose when he’s done putting them on. They fit okay, he guesses; for rentals. “Brian kill us if he knows.”

“Brian _would_ kill us if we started jumping around in these. But since we’re both not stupid and don’t have a death wish,” the Spaniard finishes with his too and pats Yuzuru’s thigh pointedly, grinning like a madman in the face of the other’s deadpan stare, “as long as we keep it simple, we’ll be alright.”

Javier stands to get the latch on the rink’s door, pulling it open. The ice, still smooth and unmarred by the cut of blades, looks indeed very inviting.

“Shall we?”

Yuzuru eyes Javier’s extended hand, and sighs. As if there was ever any doubt.

He grabs a hold of the other’s palm and stands up, stepping onto the frozen surface and pushing away the moment both his feet touch the ice.

He skates a couple laps, big, powerful strokes followed by periods of gliding, testing what these blades can do. It is not much: used to speed, maneuverability and ultimate control, rentals are always going to fall way short. But the more he skates in easy, unhurried patterns, the more he enjoys it. The wind ruffling his hair is the same, the crisp air in his lungs smells the same; his edges may be forcefully rougher, but he still gets that characteristic feeling of weightlessness.

“It all comes back to the ice, right?” Javier catches up to him, seamlessly adapting to his skating curve and following his lead. “How long has it been since you skated like this, just for the fun of it?”

“But I enjoy skating most of the time.”

“I know, I don’t mean like that. I mean _like this_ , when it’s not going to further our training in any way, and all that.”

Yuzuru’s a bit saddened to realize that he doesn’t remember. The Spaniard reads him like a book, understanding in his eyes.

“I got to a point where I didn’t know, either. That’s why I try to do this from time to time.” He gestures to their surroundings, encompassing the whole situation. Then, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, he gets cheeky and pokes Yuzuru in the shoulder repeatedly. “But it has to be with rentals! Anything else is too close to our usual skating and ruins the effect.”

It startles a laugh out of Yuzuru, who then pushes the other back, disrupting his trajectory and almost unbalancing him.

“Javi crazy.”

“Yeah, well. You like my kind of crazy.”

Yuzuru sticks his tongue out at him, then takes off at speed when Javier lunges for him, fingers missing his waist by a hairsbreadth. It turns into an _in promptu_ game of tag, both of them taking turns chasing the other around, their guffaws and shrieks filling the echoing rink with childish joy.

Javier’s the first one to take a spill after attempting a turn way too sharp for his blades to handle, all while trying to escape Yuzuru’s clawed fingers. He yelps when his feet sweep out from under him, sliding on the ice for a good couple of meters before coming to a natural stop. He flops backwards, limbs spread like a starfish, and just laughs.

“Well, that was so not elegant.” He looks at Yuzuru, who’s hunched over and laughing his ass off at his expense. “Some figure skater I turned out to be.”

“Nooo, Javi is very good!”

“You don’t have to lie to me, _cariño_ ,” he declares dramatically, “I know the truth. You’re just saying that because you love me.”

Yuzuru skates up to him and lets his body fall onto the ice next to Javier, leaning over him.

“Is true I love you,” he says, whole face lit up with a smile, “but I still tell you when you skate bad, no problem.”

“Wow, harsh.”

They move at the same time and their lips meet in the middle, Javier reaching a hand to the other’s neck to pull him closer, thumb rubbing back and forth on the corner of Yuzuru’s jaw. The latter hums contentedly into the kiss, tongue coming into play to tease the Spaniard’s lips open.

“Not that I’m not enjoying what we’re doing,” murmurs Javier, breaking the kiss, “but I’m kind of freezing down here.”

Yuzuru snorts, giving him one last peck on the cheek before standing back up and offering Javier a hand. They pat themselves down, brushing off ice shavings.

“So, not that bad of an idea?”

“Not bad, no.” Yuzuru reaches for the other’s hand again, Javier’s answering grip warm and secure. “Tell me about rink?”

After the necessary blowing off of steam from before, he now starts skating a new pattern, lazy and casual, their grasp being the only constant. Javier begins listing off anecdotes, his words weaving the image of a childhood spent on the ice, just like Yuzuru’s. He talks about following into his sister Laura’s footsteps, about his early coaches, about the kids in the hockey team who teased him for practicing ‘a girly sport’; about Encarna’s soothing hugs when she caught him crying, cracking under the pressure, and the way she encouraged him to push forward and prove everybody wrong.

“Part of my story’s contained inside these walls. Today, I brought another piece. Like coming full circle.”

He winks at his partner, finds the other’s eyes fixed on him lovingly and a fond smile on bowed lips. Yuzuru stops them in the middle of the ice, stepping in front of Javier and raising both hands to tangle on his short curls.

“Thank you, Javi.”

Javier’s arms go automatically around the other’s waist, pulling him closer at the first touch of lips on lips, breathing him in.

And for a moment in time on that ice they’re not Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernández, elite figure skaters and two-time World Champions; they’re just Yuzu and Javi, two average people in love who just so happened to think doing some ice-skating would be a fun idea for a date.

 

\---

 

Javier goes to look for Encarna after they put everything away.

_“So, disappearing again until August, right?”_

_“Kinda. I’m not going back to Toronto yet, but have too much stuff to do over here. And then I have the shows in Japan.”_

_“Well, good luck with everything. Try not to be too hard on yourself because of what happened at Worlds, okay? New season, new focus.”_

_“And the Olympics.”_

_“The Games, yes. Go try your best, of course, but we’ll still be proud of you no matter what happens.”_ She nods confidently, patting him on the chest. Then, spying Yuzuru waiting for them in the lobby, she smiles. _“I’m glad you brought him here, you know. I’ve been wanting to meet him.”_

_“Is that so?”_

_“Yes. He seems very nice. Awfully cute too, when he hasn’t got that scary glare of his going on.”_

Javier chuckles and drops his head, a secret, small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. _“He is.”_

_“You love him very much, don’t you?”_ Encarna sighs when she catches the look of fondness in his face. _“Don’t answer that. You always did want the very best of things, no matter how out of reach they seemed.”_ She opens the staff door, the noise startling Yuzuru out of his reverie, where he was curiously investigating his surroundings. The smile he gives them is sunshine-bright. _“Good to see he has the same stupid look of love as you, at least.”_

They quickly say their goodbyes after that, Encarna sending regards to all of Javier’s family and shooing them both off with a kiss on their cheeks and parting words for Yuzuru.

“You care for him, yes? He’s not very clever, but he’s good man.”

Javier facepalms, groaning in protest, but Yuzuru just smiles and nods furiously.

“I do that. Thank you.”

 

\---

 

Yuzuru raises his eyebrows at Javier when the Spaniard drives past his street. Catching the questioning look from the corner of his eye, Javier clarifies:

“I need to buy something for lunch, so we might as well stop for groceries before going home.”

He parks near a supermarket and they both get out, Yuzuru looking suspiciously up towards the greying sky.

“It rain, later.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But we’re staying in, so whatever.” Javier shrugs, leading the way towards the entrance. “What do you think about some noodles with chicken and veggies?”

“Nice.”

Yuzuru follows along as the other gets a plastic basket and wanders through the aisles, looking up periodically at the written signs to orient himself. The Japanese keeps his eyes on the different rows of displayed products, attention catching on bright colours and strange words, curious about everything. Javier, used to it by now, tries to answer his questions as well as he can: how do you explain _chorizo_ or _jamón serrano_ to somebody who’s never had them? A bit of both gets promptly added to the basket to remedy that later. If Yuzuru doesn’t like them after all, Javier’s perfectly happy to eat it all himself.

They’re on their way out when Yuzuru stops in the frozen goods section, tugging at Javier’s sleeve.

“Javi,” he starts, looking at the Spaniard from underneath his bangs and almost pouting. “We get ice-cream, too?”

Javier’s defeat before those eyes was never in question.

“…Okay.” He steps back, facing the display and watching the reflection of Yuzuru’s triumphant smile in the glass. “Which type do you want?”

“Chocolate?”

“Good choice.”

 

\---

 

They carry the grocery bags into the kitchen first thing once they get home, Javier bending to put the meat in the fridge. When he turns to get the ice-cream in the freezer, Yuzuru’s already opened the container and is picking some on the tip of his finger.

“Hey!”

The Japanese startles, eyes wide and lips pursed around the digit, an image of innocence.

“What?” he finally mouths in answer to Javier’s mockingly reproachful pose of hands on hips.

“You know what. At least get a spoon, or something.”

Yuzuru slides the finger out with a pop, grins. “More fun this way.”

And just like that he repeats the motion, dipping into the container again and back to his mouth, all cheekiness.

“Okay, that’s it.”

Javier lunges and Yuzuru shrieks, scurrying away and running off to the sitting room, laughing like a crazy person and jumping over the sofa to put some distance in between them before the Spaniard catches up to him.

“Javi too slow!”

“Oh, you think you’re safe over there?”

He feints to the side, watching the other react with a move in the opposite direction. Yuzuru just keeps snickering through this stalemate, finger once again in between his teeth. “Ice-cream very delicious. Pity you don’t have a taste.”

“Not going to share?”

“Nope. All for me.”

Javier gasps, hand going to his chest in mock surprise. “Really? What would Yumi say if she knew her son was this selfish?”

“Chocolate serious business. She understand.”

“Then she’ll understand this, too.”

Javier makes a go at him and, though Yuzuru thinks he manages to evade him again, the true extent of the other’s plan gets soon revealed. With a victory cry, Javier tackles him over the back of the couch, grabbing him around the chest and pulling both of them over and down into the cushions, legs flailing everywhere.

“Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had,” Javier complains in a choked voice, after a sudden armful of Japanese skater drops on his ribs. “Jeez, you’re heavier than you look.”

Yuzuru’s answering laugh sounds a bit wheezy, but he carefully turns in Javier’s arms to pat him on the head with the free hand that’s not still holding the ice-cream container.

“Good catch.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hope I didn’t break myself with that stunt.”

“I give you some ice-cream now,” offers Yuzuru, finger dipping again in the container. He takes it to Javier’s lips then, the melting substance threatening to drip down his hand. “Make you feel better.”

Javier obliges, opening his mouth so Yuzuru can slide in, digit pressing lightly on his tongue, sweet with flavour. The other’s pupils widen when Javier goes a step further and wraps his tongue around it, eyes at half-mast.

With Yuzuru’s attention firmly on his mouth, Javier exploits his advantage: he dips his own finger in the container discreetly, pulling his lips away just to smear ice-cream over the tip of Yuzuru’s nose.

“Javi!”

“Ha! Got you.”

Yuzuru’s eyes cross trying to assess the damage, looking exasperatedly at Javier’s smirking form beneath him afterwards. “You no play fair.”

“I learned that from you.”

The Spaniard leans up, tongue coming out to lick the ice-cream off. The other scrunches his face, giggling, and Javier can feel a double line of dripping cold on his cheekbone. He snorts in response, raising his eyebrows when he catches sight of Yuzuru’s satisfied face.

“See? You’re an evil mastermind at heart.”

Yuzuru just bends down to clean it off, tongue running hotly over chilled skin, before getting more ice-cream and spreading it on Javier’s lips.

Chocolate kisses are one of the best kinds of kisses.

By the time they’re done painting and licking ice-cream all over each other’s faces, trading kisses and smiles while lying comfortably tangled together, the container’s half-empty and the remaining ice-cream mostly melted.

“I think I know how cats feel, now.”

“Yeah,” Javier laughs, thumb rubbing softly back and forth at the corner of Yuzuru’s eyebrow. “But it was nice.”

“Yes, nice.” Yuzuru smiles, blindingly bright. “Chocolate good, better with Javi.”

“That ice-cream’s ruined, though.”

“No matter. Worth it.”

 

\---

 

They both flop back on the couch after lunch, bellies satisfyingly full and bodies lazy and languid. Javier makes a half-hearted effort at staying awake, managing to sit upright and turning the television on to watch the news; Yuzuru lets himself rest against the other’s shoulder, legs folded sideways on the seat, eyelids heavy.

“What say?”

“They’re talking politics, as usual.” Javier raises the opposite shoulder in a shrug, trying not to disturb Yuzuru’s position. “More corruption, and all that stuff.”

“Bad people?”

“Selfish, definitely.” The Spaniard frowns. “The kind that care only about getting richer themselves in spite of their job and responsibilities.”

“If bad at job, then why still there?”

Javier sighs in resignation. “It’s complicated.”

“Should not.”

“Well, that’s politics for you.” Then he adds, with a mischievous smile, “hey, maybe you should run for office, since you have such a clear head.”

“Nooo,” Yuzuru whines, scrunching his face in distaste. “I no good for that. I good for skating, and enough politics there for me.”

“Ugh, true. Things heating up back in Japan with the media?”

Yuzuru looks down, playing with a loose thread at the edge of his sleeve. “Olympic season. It happens.”

“Still. That sucks.”

“No matter,” he states, shaking off the somber thoughts and patting Javier’s thigh reassuringly. “Go back to Toronto, focus on training. If skate good, no problem.”

Javier puts his arm around Yuzuru, pulling him towards his chest and leaving a kiss on dark hair.

“That’s the spirit.”

As the minutes go by in silence, punctuated only by the quiet stream of Spanish coming from the television, Yuzuru’s eyelids get more and more heavy, and he keeps slipping down Javier’s chest. The amused Spaniard ends up rearranging himself on the couch, propping his shoulders on the armrest so that the other can lie between his legs. Yuzuru rests his head comfortably on Javier’s stomach, wiry arms wrapping around the other’s middle as if he was a pillow.

When Javier starts carding hands though Yuzuru’s hair, dark straight locks falling smoothly through his fingers, the Japanese sighs contentedly, half-asleep and this close to purring.

“You make a good Effie stand-in, you know?”

“Like being cat: can sleep all day, do what I want.”

“And no allergies.”

“That good, too.”

 

\---

 

Javier isn’t sure of when he falls asleep.

When he wakes, it’s past the middle of the afternoon and the sky looks even darker with clouds through the window. The television’s still on in the background, playing some kind of soap opera; Javier reaches down to the floor for the fallen remote, turning it off.

Yuzuru, still lying on top of him, whines in protest at the movement and drowsily nuzzles against the Spaniard’s chest. Javier tries to soothe him back into unconsciousness, petting his hair and running blunt nails over his scalp, but it is too late.

“…Javi?” he mumbles, bleary eyes catching the other’s apologetic gaze.

“Sorry. You can go back to sleep, if you want.”

“No, I awake.” Yuzuru straightens, sitting back on folded legs and stretching his arms up. He groans in contentment at the feeling, then drops back down lazily onto the other’s chest. “What we do now?”

“Dunno. I didn’t plan anything more for today.” Javier rests a hand on Yuzuru’s hip, fingers rubbing on the slip of skin showing between the other’s clothes. “You’re leaving tomorrow, so. You should choose.”

“I leave, yes.” Yuzuru sighs, his own fingers playing with the stretched collar of Javier’s worn shirt, rubbing absently over one of the bite-bruises there. “I want to go back to Cricket, back to training; but also I want to stay here with you. Is weird?”

Javier understands the feeling of being pulled in opposite directions only too well.

“No. It’s not weird.”

“I like that I come to Spain. I very happy here.”

“Yeah?” Javier smiles brightly at him. “I did a good job as a host, then?”

“Best host, yes,” Yuzuru nods in response, patting the other in the chest. After a few seconds of stillness, he adds, “I go to FaOI this year.”

“All stops?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Javier’s hand travels instinctively upwards to settle on Yuzuru’s neck, thumb rubbing over the pulse point there. “That’s only a few weeks away.”

Yuzuru braces his palms on the cushions beside the Spaniard’s hips and pushes himself up until their gazes are level. His eyes are bright, his smile soft. “I take you out when we in Japan.”

“I’ll hold you to that, eh? No being lazy and staying holed up in the hotel all the time.”

Yuzuru raises his eyebrows pointedly. “You not complain last time we in hotel room together.”

“Well, obviously not,” Javier laughs at the innuendo, “but I still need a break from time to time.”

“Poor Javi. Too old to keep up anymore.”

“Oh, you little-“ Javier grabs the other’s cheeks, squishing them up to try and stifle the giggling. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“Maybe I need reminder.”

Javier kisses him, his own laughter mixing with Yuzuru’s between their lips, the bitter thoughts of separation once again buried beneath the happiness of the moment. They trade kisses and soft caresses over the clothes, gentle and warm, unhurried.

“Javi,” Yuzuru sighs into the other’s mouth after a while, drawing back just enough to look the Spaniard in the eye. “Bed now?”

“Okay.”

Yuzuru stands first, offering a hand to Javier and pulling him up for a fleeting kiss. Hands still joined, he leads the way into Javier’s bedroom, who closes the door after them. Yuzuru drags him back in then, throwing his arms around the Spaniard’s shoulders and burying his fingers in the other’s curly hair.

They kiss deeply, hands roaming freely and undressing each other, clothing items slowly piling around them on the floor like an offering. There’s no rush in their movements this time, the kind of fiery need that boils finally muted, leaving its smoldering coals behind. It makes for lazy, languid interactions; skin slowly heating up, hands steadily becoming greedier.

Yuzuru lies down on his back on the bed and pulls Javier on top, the weight of him comforting and grounding. His fingers dance upon the collar of bruises on the Spaniard’s chest, tapping his own rhythm as he admires his handiwork. Javier gives him a small smile at this, hands traveling up his legs, the caress reverent upon the inside of Yuzuru’s milky thighs.

Yuzuru moans quietly, breathy and pliant, pushing his hips up into the contact; silently asking for friction. Javier bends closer to kiss him again, pressing their bodies together.

“You want?” he asks when they part, Yuzuru’s half-lidded eyes fixed on him.

“Yes. But…” Javier understands when the other’s legs come up higher, pressing against his sides. He relaxes, letting Yuzuru push him to the side and finally settle on top. “Like this.”

“Okay. I can work with that.”

Yuzuru smiles, bracing a hand on the headboard for support when he leans down to catch Javier’s lips again, nipping playfully; the other one disappears down between their bodies, warm fingers wrapping around them both.

Javier gets his arms around the other’s waist to keep him in place, close, and groans at the increased friction.

“Yuzu…”

“Come on. Get lube.”

Collecting his scrambled thoughts, Javier reaches for the bedside table until his fingers find the bottle. He mentally thanks their past-selves for having the foresight of leaving it in easy reach, since Yuzuru doesn’t seem inclined to let him move any further. Coating the fingers of one hand generously, he slides both down his partner’s body, one kneading at the tight muscle of his bottom and the other spreading the lube around in a teasing caress.

Yuzuru moans, his breath puffing hotly over Javier’s parted lips as he rolls his hips into the contact. He takes his working hand away, nails dragging on skin until his palm settles softly over Javier’s throat.

“No teasing. Not today.”

Javier tilts his chin up a bit, exposing more of his throat in automatic response to that gesture. His gaze is still locked with his partner’s, and he sees there the silent plea to leave the games aside at this time. Javier nods his understanding, smiling back when Yuzuru’s eyes relax around the corners. Their lips meet again, a sweet pressure of skin on skin, and Yuzuru keens softly when the other’s slick fingers finally breach him.

They both take their time, basking in the intimacy of it all and moving languidly together. Yuzuru rolls his hips in a slow rhythm, pushing back against the widening pressure and forward onto Javier’s chest, lips revisiting bruises with loving attention. Javier goes along with him, like playing music to the guiding strokes of a metronome, watching him for cues and encouraging the motion with a hand that travels over the swell of his bottom to the top of his thigh.

After a while, Yuzuru sits back up. He runs hands through his hair, pushing the damp strands away from his forehead and brushing the sweat away from his eyes, chest moving rapidly in quick breaths. Then, he reaches back to tap at Javier’s wrist.

“Is okay, now.”

The Spaniard takes his fingers out carefully and wipes his hand on the sheets, but when he stretches towards the bedside table again Yuzuru pins his arm down to the mattress.

“No.”

“I’m just getting a condom.”

“I know.” Yuzuru answers Javier’s implicit question with a smile and a slight shake of the head. “Is okay like this?”

It’s not that unusual of a request. They both tend to default to condoms because it makes for a more convenient way of dealing with the mess that comes with sex; but from time to time, when there’s no rush and the mood strikes, they both enjoy the mess.

“Yeah, of course,” Javier answers, watching Yuzuru’s shoulders sag in relief noticeably. Freeing his arm, he beckons the other back down with a gesture and a gentle look. “Come here.”

Yuzuru falls gratefully between the Spaniard’s open arms, kissing him slowly, open-mouthed and close. He stays there while extending a hand for the lube, reaching back afterwards to slick Javier’s erection and line them up.

He goes down slowly, dragging the moment out, forehead pressed against Javier’s. He breathes out in a rush once he’s fully seated, and Yuzuru realizes he had closed his eyes at some point when he feels Javier’s fingers sliding over his cheek.

The Spaniard has this soft look on his face, sweet and loving, and Yuzuru’s chest feels just that little bit tighter when it dawns on him that he’s the one who put it there.

“Still with me?”

They both know that impending separation tends to leave Yuzuru raw, his innermost-self bare to the outside observer. It makes for some of his most vulnerable moments, painfully open and seeking comfort before he carefully tucks longing away again to focus on everything else.

Yuzuru’s not one to like the feeling of exposure, but since he’s with someone he trusts implicitly, he lets it run its course through him anyway.

“Yes.”

Yuzuru starts moving, then; haltingly at first, then in deep rolls of his hips when he finds his rhythm. He hums little pleased sounds directly into Javier's open mouth, kisses a simple touch of lips on lips; his fingers tighten and release in Javier’s hair with every thrust, arms braced on either side of his partner’s head.

Javier finds himself encased in raw feeling, every sense filled to capacity with Yuzuru, his presence all-encompassing. He puts his hands on the other’s waist but makes no attempt at control, supporting the other’s movement and letting him do as he pleases, like a boat adrift on the tide.

For once, they don’t talk much. Yuzuru drags it out, building the pressure steadily and refusing to rush even when his body tightens up with the need for _more._ Instead, he stays curled over Javier’s chest, kissing endlessly and tapping at the furrows that appear on the Spaniard’s brow when _his_ body threatens to give up in pleasure.

“Yuzu,” Javier brushes away the other’s bangs, eyes glazed and tone pleading. “You’re killing me, here.”

“No like?” he pouts, grinding his hips on the down-thrust and pulling a deep groan out of the Spaniard’s throat. “Feels like yes.”

“Also feels like torture.”

Yuzuru finally takes pity on them both.

“I not want that.” He sits up, then, and takes one of Javier’s hands to wrap around his long-neglected erection. “Touch me, please?”

The moment Javier complies eagerly, Yuzuru increases the pace and moans loudly when he finds the best angle, letting himself chase satisfaction with abandon. His whole body comes alive, thighs straining beautifully with the movement and working muscles on display beneath smooth, damp skin.

“This better?” he asks breathlessly, holding Javier’s hand in place when the Spaniard reaches out for him, fingers leaving a trail oh heat from his thigh and up his hip to settle over his heart.

“Yeah. I’ll definitely die quicker.”

“But good?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Yuzuru smiles knowingly, and it suddenly becomes too much for Javier to bear. Reaching his limit, he pulls himself up into a sitting position, keeping the other settled firmly on his lap, and pushes back against his movement, meeting Yuzuru’s thrusts with his own unleashed need.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he says against Yuzuru’s lips, swallowing his cries of pleasure. “ _Best thing that ever happened to me_.”

“Javi-!”

“ _I love you. So much. You can’t even begin to imagine-”_

Yuzuru brings their foreheads together, pace turned frantic, answering the familiar words in Spanish with what Javier knows from experience are their Japanese counterpart. He curls his free arm around the small of Yuzuru’s back, keeping them as close as they can be when their orgasm hits them both in force, stilling their movement suddenly and clinging to each other desperately, needing the contact to keep themselves grounded.

Afterwards, Javier pushes himself up to rest his back against the headboard, an exhausted Yuzuru still clinging onto him and trembling with aftershocks every time the Spaniard moves, still seated inside.

“You okay?” he asks softly, fingers pushing the other’s long bangs from his forehead.

Yuzuru has his face hidden in the crook of Javier’s neck. The Spaniard can feel the rapid puffs of his breathing against the damp skin of his collarbone, his nose pressed against his pulse point.

“Very. You no worry. Just-” He makes a vague gesture with his hand, trying to encompass the whole situation, Javier guesses.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yes.” Yuzuru presses a smiling kiss on his neck in thanks. “Very intense.”

“That was a workout, for you.”

The Japanese finally pulls away to look at him and grins sunnily. “Stamina training.”

“Oh my god, no.” Javier throws his head back in dismay, but can feel Yuzuru’s answering laugh perfectly against his chest. “Don’t relate sex to training. It gives my brain ideas and I had enough with learning to deal with all your tight clothes.”

“Easy: focus on prize, skate better.”

“Focusing too much on the prize is exactly the problem.”

Yuzuru punches him in the shoulder. “ _Baka._ Not like that.”

Javier deals with the disgruntled face by giving him a kiss, loving and gentle. The other hums contentedly, pliant in his arms and nipping at his lips when they part.

“Shower with me? Less nice and more gross, now.”

“Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

\---

 

Javier watches as Yuzuru packs his things back up in his suitcase, the newly washed and dried clothes Javier just brought him going on top. His outfit for tomorrow is already laid out neatly on top of Javier’s desk.

“Got all your papers sorted out?”

“Yes. I check they in bag.”

“Good.”

Yuzuru closes the zipper, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. He straightens his back, turns to look the Spaniard in the eye.

The longing is still there, reflected in both sets of eyes. It never truly leaves, but experience tells them that no matter how far they go or how much time they spend apart, they’ll always come back to this.

Spain, Japan, Canada; it doesn’t matter.

_Home._

“Dinner?”

“ _Hai~!_ ”

Rain starts pattering a quiet song against the windows.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end, only the epilogue left ;)


	5. Departures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uni is finally all done and I'm free~ \o/
> 
> Things got a bit crazy for a couple weeks and I struggled with a bout of writer's block, but I finally managed to finish this. It's more of an epilogue than a full fledged chapter so it's shorter than these last updates, but I hope it's a decent close for this story.
> 
> Once again, sorry for the long wait and I hope you enjoyed the second-hand visit to Madrid! :D

 

Yuzuru doesn’t sleep well that last night.

Javier notices his agitation when they get into bed and tries to help him settle by sliding an arm over Yuzuru’s waist and pulling him close to his chest. Offering comfort silently, without calling unnecessary attention to the problem. Understanding.

It happens to them both, from time to time. Even though they’re used to separation and can deal with it fine when they’re apart, at times it looms like a shadow when they’re still together, sucking the contentment out of the present and replacing it with impending loneliness.

Suddenly, with Javier’s rhythmic puffs of breath tickling his nape, it dawns on Yuzuru that he’s leaving; that once he falls asleep, the next time he opens his eyes will be to goodbyes and the end of their domestic parenthesis.

He feels like he’ll be leaving Javier behind for good, which is stupid. He knows it is. Knows they’ll be seeing each other again in weeks, that him getting on a plane alone is just how their lives go, and it doesn’t mean anything.

The heart is a stubborn thing for the brain to conquer, though, and once something like this worms its way in, there’s nothing to do.

Yuzuru tosses and turns through the night, eventually falling asleep out of sheer tiredness, but it doesn’t last very long. He startles awake what feels like mere minutes later, his body shaking in a cold sweat, breathing harshly in the low light of early morning.

“Ow…”

The Japanese turns sharply at the pained groan, eyeing his partner on the other side of the bed. Javier’s rubbing at a spot on his ribs, wincing.

“I kick you?”

“You have very pointy elbows, you know?” Javier complains. His face relaxes into a concerned smile when Yuzuru stretches a hand, fingers prodding carefully over the tender area. “You were talking in your sleep. Nightmare?”

“Don’t remember. Sorry I hurt you.”

“Eh, it happens. I’m used to it by now.” Javier places a hand over his, thumb rubbing over Yuzuru’s wrist. “Are you alright?”

The knowing look makes Yuzuru drop his gaze to the sheets. There’s no point in lying.

“No. But later, yes.”

Javier drags him into an embrace, legs tangling back together underneath the covers. He nuzzles his face into the crook of the other’s neck, feeling the still rapid beat of Yuzuru’s pulse against his lips.

“I know it sucks, but it’s okay to feel like this.”

“It stupid.”

“Remember Marseille?” Yuzuru’s only answer is a noncommittal hum. “I was a mess. Got too clingy the last night.”

“Javi-”

“You told me to stop being dramatic, go train and come back with the Europeans gold.” Javier grins against the other’s shoulder when Yuzuru groans in embarrassment, hiding his face in the pillow. “Hey, it worked! Snapped me right out of my funk.”

“Not nice of me…”

Javier draws away, lays a hand on Yuzuru’s neck to bring their gazes back together.

“You also said it was okay to feel bad and miss you, because I would get over it and it would be fine.”

Yuzuru bites his lip, eyes searching the other’s face. Javier’s expression is serious, reassuring, and he’s reminded of why there’s no need for façades or misplaced pride between them.

“You use my words against me. Not fair.”

“Well, it’s good advice. Even Yuzuru Hanyu has to admit that.”

“Is my own advice.”

“More reason to follow it then, right?”

Yuzuru closes the distance between them, the Spaniard’s lips soft and warm on his when they kiss shallowly. The gloomy thoughts that have been plaguing him through the night don’t vanish that easily, not yet, but their weight is lifted somewhat and his mind calms down. Resigned, for now, but knowing that it will pass.

It always does.

The alarm sounds a while later, catching them entangled together, sharing warmth and intimacy for the last time in a while.

“That’s our cue,” says Javier, stretching to turn off the sound. Yuzuru clings to him tighter, forehead pressing against his collarbones. “We have to get up, get some breakfast into you. My cooking is better than the plane’s.”

“I miss you.”

He feels hands in his hair, Javier bending to drop a kiss on the crown of his head.

“I know, _cariño_. But you’ll be alright.”

 

\---

 

Dragging his luggage behind him to put it in the trunk of a car is part of a routine Yuzuru’s body has so internalized by now that it’s calming. It’s just another plane ride, another hop over the ocean in his long list of travels. Nothing more.

As the minutes go by and the hour gets closer to the last goodbye, he starts making peace with it.

The ride over to the airport is quiet, but comfortable. What needed to be said has been said already, and since the remaining feelings of dread cannot be abated with words, they sit in silence and work through them separately, but together.

Javier doesn’t turn the radio on this time while he drives them through the mild traffic, but his fingers keep tapping some rhythm or another on the steering wheel anyway. Yuzuru still looks out the window at the passing scenery, the city skyline in full contrast against the once again blue sky; but the image that gets imprinted on his retinas is that of Javier’s profile, eyes fixed on the road and brows drawn tight behind his glasses against the glare of the sun.

The tightness around Yuzuru’s heart lets up, and he finally feels his lips curve naturally in a smile. Javier notices immediately, shooting him a quick look out of the corner of his eye.

“Feeling better now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Yuzuru turns in his seat, resting his shoulder against the padding. He sighs fondly when the Spaniard curses under his breath, fiddling with the visor.

“You forget sunglasses at home, yes?”

“What gave me away?” chuckles Javier. The squinting gets even more pronounced when he grins back at his companion.

“ _Baka_.” Yuzuru stretches a hand to poke the other in the cheek, smile growing. “Watch the road.”

 

\---

 

It takes a bit to find a place to park the car once they arrive at the airport. The moment Javier finally turns the ignition off, both hands dropping heavily onto his thighs with a sigh, Yuzuru feels the weight of the moment slide over them. He stops fiddling with the zipper of his bag, looking at the Spaniard’s suddenly somber profile and drooping shoulders.

“Javi,” he calls softly, making the other startle a bit and shoot him a quick look. It doesn’t hold, and Yuzuru understands. “Today my turn to be sad.”

“I know, it just…” Javier takes off his seatbelt and then his glasses, leaving them folded on the dashboard and pinching the bridge of his nose; still avoiding Yuzuru’s soft gaze. “It just hit me all of a sudden. That you’re really leaving.”

There’s the click of Yuzuru’s seatbelt coming off, then a rustle of fabric. Javier feels fingers cupping his jaw, their grip deceptively light; he knows very well that there’s no point in trying to shake them off, so he follows the pressure and turns his head towards the other, opening his eyes and finally meeting his gaze.

Yuzuru’s smiling, and the expression is so tender that the Spaniard feels the formerly mounting wave of dread melt inside his chest.

“I really liked having you here again and getting to spend so much time together, that’s all,” he says, leaning into the contact. Javier takes a breath, nose against the thin skin of the other’s wrist, and lets go. Chuckles, batting his eyelashes at Yuzuru and pouting slightly. “It also means I have to go back to work. I was so enjoying my vacation…”

“Nooo, don’t make the face,” Yuzuru half whines, half laughs, poking Javier in the cheek. “You know I weak for the face.”

“You gonna give me a kiss goodbye, then?”

Laying his free hand next to the gear shift for support, Yuzuru leans in and catches the Spaniard’s lips with a smile, the kiss warm and loving. They’re both reluctant to end it, pulled back in by the other every time one of them starts to draw away.

The sound of another car’s horn nearby makes them both jump, the contact finally broken when Yuzuru’s hand slips and he almost falls off his seat. Javier catches him on the shoulder, both of them laughing at the silliness of the moment.

“We should get going. As much as I don’t want you to leave, there’s a bunch of people who will skin me alive if I make you miss that plane.”

“Javi so dramatic.”

“At least a bit of yelling from Yumi, I’m sure.”

“Brian yell more than mom.”

Yuzuru raises his eyebrows pointedly, watching with inner glee as Javier’s eyes widen in realization.

“…Shit. Let’s go.”

 

\---

 

They stand in line together while Yuzuru checks in his suitcase, but after that there’s nothing more to keep him on this side of the security checkpoint. Without a word, Javier leads them to the least crowded corner, trying to get as much privacy as possible in the wide open space.

There’s never been a lover’s parting for them inside airport terminals, the more intimate touches and bittersweet goodbyes reserved for places where there’s just the two of them. But beneath all those layers they’re still friends, first and foremost, and that is the sending off they give each other when the time comes.

“So, are you going to listen to Brian this time and keep the crazy jumping to a minimum?”

Yuzuru is not amused.

“I behave all this time,” he deadpans. Something mischievous flashes in his eyes then, pulling one corner of his lips into a smirk. “Have enough jumps to beat you.”

Javier snorts at the friendly ribbing, and Yuzuru’s smirk evens out into a grin.

“We’ll see. I may have a trick or two up my sleeve.”

“Upgrade?”

“How about you don’t ask me about that and I don’t ask you about that quad lutz.”

They both narrow their eyes comically, sizing each other up exaggeratedly for a moment. Yuzuru breaks first, extending out a hand and tilting his head to the side, face scrunched up in a smile.

“Deal.”

Javier takes the handshake, warm and strong. A second later, he uses it to pull the other into an embrace, their hands staying tightly grasped together between their chests, his free arm around Yuzuru’s shoulders. There’s an answering contact around his waist, fingers clutching at the fabric of Javier’s shirt.

“You text me when you land, okay?” Yuzuru’s nod is so small that the only reason he actually feels it is because it happens against the skin of his neck. “And be careful. Shows are much more fun when you’re around, so you’d better be there.”

“Save date for me in Japan. I not forget promise.”

“Good.”

They part slowly, taking a step back afterwards to put some actual distance between them. It helps with the temptation to touch again, with falling back into their own separate lives.

“So…”

“Javi,” Yuzuru says decisively, straightening his back and strengthening his resolve, pulling further away. “Goodbye.”

The Spaniard bites his lip, drops his shoulders with a sigh. “Goodbye, Yuzuru. Have a safe trip.”

They look each other up and down one last time, before exchanging a final nod. Yuzuru turns around, hitching his bag up his shoulder as he starts walking towards the security checkpoint. He doesn’t look back, but feels Javier’s eyes following him all the way to the other side.

 

\---

 

Yuzuru’s used to lingering around in terminals, so he’s prepared for the wait to board his flight. He ignores the duty-free stores, taking a seat before one of the floor to ceiling crystal walls where the sun coming in doesn’t reach yet but is pleasantly warm. Once settled, he takes out his handheld console and starts rummaging around in his bag for the appropriate pair of earphones, until a sudden thought makes him freeze. A whine escapes from his lips as his search turns frantic and that thought becomes a realization.

Accepting defeat, he grabs his phone and sends out a quick message.

_I forget football scarf at home. Sorry :(_

A while later, just as Yuzuru’s finishing gathering his things to leave for his boarding gate, he gets his answer.

_I know, it’s just here over the dining room chair. I’ll give it back next time._

_Please! I really like it._

_It’s a very nice one. I have good taste._

Yuzuru feels himself smiling inevitably, conjuring probable scenarios in his head.

_You wear it now?_

_I mean, it still smells like you…_

Blood rushes to his cheeks, his skin noticeably warmer to the touch when Yuzuru raises his free hand to cover them, eyes glued to the screen while Javier keeps typing.

_..But it’s too hot already. So no._

Yuzuru switches to his Japanese keyboard, types _baka_ and waits.

_HEY! I know that one._

_Is because is true. I use a lot so you see a lot._

_I love you too :D_

When Yuzuru stands and starts searching for his gate, he’s all smiles again.

Spain is always nice.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading till the end!

**Author's Note:**

> (ETA: You can now find me on twitter [@Valkedictorian](https://twitter.com/Valkedictorian) or on [Curious Cat!](https://curiouscat.me/Valkedictorian))


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